All Warriors Learn To Cry
by ninjasquirrel6701
Summary: Legomance, Elf-Warrior Sue - Auranor, elf maiden, is sent to Rivendell after her parents die. She joins the Fellowship, with intents of helping Frodo and avenging her parents' deaths. She falls for Legolas after discovering he was a childhood friend.
1. Prologue: A Dark Past

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Hey everyone! This is the first story I've ever posted, and I'm really excited to see what everyone thinks about it. Please review; constructive criticism, suggestions, and ideas are welcome. Hope you enjoy!

All Lord of the Rings material is property of J.R.R. Tolkien. I'd like to thank him for creating such a wonderful story. I would also like to send my thanks to Peter Jackson for bringing such an amazing trilogy to the screen. Some parts of this story are directly lifted from the book, and other parts from the movie. Auranor and situations and events unique to her are my creation.

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**Prologue  
**_A Dark Past_

The all too familiar echo of clanging steel rang through the forest, followed by a forceful, determined grunt, then the scraping of disengaging blades

"Ha! You shall not escape so easily, young warrior!" bellowed a deep, thunderous male voice in the Sindarian tong.

"Nay! I shall escape much less hindered!" taunted a strong willed female voice, the beautiful Elvish flowing from her lips like the crack of a whip.

Into a green, treeless clearing ran a beautiful elf maiden, clad in intricately crafted armor. She grasped in her hand a long, sleek sword with an elaborately designed metallic hilt, mounted with a single, amethyst stone. Her long, blonde hair danced in the breeze behind her as she ran, and her misty blue eyes gleamed with a spark of mischief. She ran with the commanding agility and grace of the Mearas, the great wild horses of the Riddermark. Suddenly, she came to a halt in the middle of the clearing. A sly smile grew across her face as she eyed a nearby oak tree. She walked to the base of the tree, sheathing her sword across her back, and began to climb, much like a cat. Then she perched upon a branch, completely out of sight to the unobservant eye, awaiting the arrival of her pursuer.

Just as the elf maiden had expected, another elf appeared through the trees, running toward the clearing. His face was youthful in appearance, yet his eyes shone with the wisdom acquired through countless ages of the past. A sword he also carried, crafted in the same sleek Elvish style. The hilt was studded with sapphires that sparkled brightly in the sun. As he neared the clearing, he slowed to a cautious walk, observing everything around him. His keen elf eyes and ears caught even the slightest movement or sound. He continued on slowly through the clearing, and soon neared the tree in which the she-elf was hiding. A sly grin grew across his face as he passed by the tree, and stopped but a few feet beyond it.

Suddenly, the maiden sprung out of the tree with a victorious battle cry, sword drawn. The blade was poised such that it would easily impale her advisory through the back upon landing. However, the elf on the ground was not as dimwitted as the she-elf had hoped. Just as the blade of her sword was about make contact with its target, the wise elf spun around with his sword raised above his head, guarding himself from the predicted blow. The two blades crashed together, resonating across the entire countryside, silencing any wild creature within hearing distance. With great speed, the elf swung his blade around, disengaging with his foe, causing the she-elf to loose all sense of balance, and land hard on the ground. She shook her head, trying to recover her senses, but when she attempted to regain her height, she was met by the cold steel of her foe's sword resting against her throat.

She shrank back at the touch of the blade upon her fair skin, but stared her opponent in the eyes without sign of fear. "Go on, kill me if you dare," she taunted with a sly air.

"Do not tempt me, for I will if you cause the need," the elf replied with a rather arrogant attitude. The two stared each other down like animals. Smiles slowly grew across their mouths, until they were both laughing hysterically at one another. The elf withdrew his sword, sheathing it, and offered a hand to the she-elf. She gladly accepted it, and he pulled her up onto her feet. He handed her sword to her, and she also replaced it to its rightful scabbard.

"I say, My Lady, you gave me quite a run for my luck this time," the elf admitted. "But there are still some flaws to your method."

"My Good Lord, had you not realized my whereabouts within the tree, I would have succeeded in defeating you," the other boasted.

"If you would not have fidgeted so much while hiding, I would not have heard you," he replied with a chuckle.

"I suppose you are right," she admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Ah Auranor, you fight just like your father, with such skill and bravery. But you also have been gifted with his stubborn desire to continuously expand your knowledge in the way of battle," the elf said, gazing lovingly at her with a warm smile. "You have your mother's radiant beauty and melodious voice."

Auranor looked up at him with a sad smile, then shifted her gaze to the ground. "Nestellon, I miss them so much. I wish they were here with us, even if only for a moment." She sighed, a veil of grief and sorrow shielding her eyes. "I remember the day that they were taken from me. The horror is still fresh in my mind, as if it all happened yesterday."

"Your father was an honorable warrior, and one of the greatest captains to ever command the Elvish army," Nestellon lamented.

"He was outnumbered and slaughtered by a group of orcs while riding to Gondor. The day my mother and I learned of his fate, we were both driven into a bottomless pit of sorrow. My mother, however, did not live through the night. She died of a broken heart. In the morn, I was alone. I would have soon followed them to the Halls of Mandos if not for King Thranduil's concern and haste in sending me to Rivendell, to the House of Lord Elrond. He believed that an escape from reality may save me from meeting the same bitter end." As she recalled the horrid memories, she felt a deep pain within, as if someone had grabbed her heart and was sucking the life from her body. But she ignored the pain, for it was not the first time that she had felt it.

"When I arrived, Lord Elrond welcomed me with open arms, and accepted me as one of his family. Elladan and Elrohir are my brothers, Arwen, my sister, Elrond, my father. And you, Nestellon, are my uncle. You have taught me how to fight and how to heal. I hold you all so very close to my heart, but you most of all," she finished with a genuine smile as she gazed at Nestellon.

"_Nin mell hen_," he replied.

"I beg your pardon Dear Uncle," Auranor interrupted with a sarcastic arrogance, "but I am 2932 years old, and far from a child."

Nestellon laughed heartily at this. "Yes Auranor, 'tis true. You are no longer a child in any way. But to me, you will always be my young niece, no matter how many ages you see on Middle-Earth."

"_Mellen lle Nestellon!"_ Auranor exclaimed as she threw her arms around Nestellon's neck in a huge hug.

"And I love you as well, my dear child," he replied as he returned her hug. "Now, I believe we should make our way back to Rivendell. Lord Elrond said that he is expecting important guests tonight. We should not want to be late for their arrival."

"Last one back to Rivendell has to kiss the next dwarf we see!" Auranor challenged, and took off running at a pace faster than when entering the clearing.

"Now that is not very fair!" Nestellon called after her as he burst to a full speed run. "She is a very special elf," he muttered to himself, "a very special elf indeed."


	2. Ch1: Strange Guests from Afar

**Chapter 1  
**_Strange Guests from Afar_

"What took you so long?" Auranor asked Nestellon when he arrived back at Rivendell. She sprung up from the white stone bench she was sitting on and ran over to her comrade. "I have been here for quite some time waiting for you."

"Well, you had quite the head start, now didn't you?" Nestellon pointed out sarcastically. "I must admit, however, that you have become quite a fast runner. I remember when you would call out to me to slow down. But now, it is I who may be forced to call out to you."

"I think you have lost out little bet," Auranor agitated. "You are obligated to kiss the next dwarf we see."

"Well, thankfully, the chances of seeing a dwarf around Rivendell are very…" his comment drifted off as both of the elves directed their attention to the path leading to the great gates of Rivendell. In the distance, they could see a very short man with an exceptionally long, scraggily, brown beard and abundance of other facial hair. He was accompanied by a group of three equally short and hairy men; one whose hair resembled his, and two whose hair shown a silvery gray in the sun, and many years of wisdom shown in their wrinkles and eyes.

Nestellon blinked his eyes in disbelief, and looked back at Auranor. "Do my eyes deceive me?" he breathed to her.

"I do believe those are dwarves I see Nestellon," Auranor answered with amusement.

"You weren't serious about the little bet were you?" he asked her with a glint of horror in his voice.

"Well, I do believe that I am as astonished as you. I suppose the bet is off. I would not wish to kiss one of them myself if faced with the task," she answered him. "Dwarves in Rivendell? What sort of event does Lord Elrond have planned?" The two elves waited politely at the gate, disregarding past conflicts between Elves and Dwarves, as the dwarves approached. When they reached the elves, they were greeted warmly by their hosts.

"Hail Master Dwarves," Nestellon welcomed with a smile and outstretched hand. "Welcome to Rivendell."

"Aye, Master Elf. It is a pleasure to be welcomed so graciously into Lord Elrond's keep," replied a silver haired dwarf with a hearty voice. He extended his arm to Nestellon and was received with a friendly handshake. "I am Gloin, Lord of Erebor, of the Lonely Mountains. This is my son, Gimli," he said referring to one of the brown haired Dwarves.

"It is my pleasure to meet you both. I am Nestellon, healer and long time friend of Lord Elrond Half-elven," he said. He turned his head toward Auranor and bid her foreword. "This is Auranor, daughter of Thalion and Gailawen of the Woodland Realm, also a long time friend of Lord Elrond."

Auranor bowed her head with respect, closing her eyes at the memory of her parents. "It is a pleasure to welcome you to Rivendell," she said as she raised her head to look at the dwarves.

"Lord Elrond is expecting you. Please follow us. We shall take you to him," Nestellon declared and he opened the gates to the elven haven.

As they entered, the dwarves were taken aback by the breathtaking vista of Rivendell. The entirety of the establishment was set within a peaceful valley upon a large cleft at the base of the Lonely Mountains. Tranquil gardens accented by small waterscapes and flora of the most fair creation scattered the grounds. The dwelling itself was crafted with elaborate elven design and motif. The outer walls were of gray stone, and the tall doors of rich, dark wood. The intricate iron design on the doors was crafted with skill beyond even that of the dwarves. The company walked speechlessly into the home of Lord Elrond. Auranor cast a glance at Nestellon, both smirking over how impressed the dwarves seemed. They walked on through the great halls of Rivendell and were lead to Elrond's study where he waited.

"Do wait here Good Lords, and I will announce you to the Master of Rivendell," Nestellon said to the dwarves. He opened the study doors and did as he said. On cue, the dwarves strode into the room, and Nestellon walked back out. He shut the door behind him just as Lord Elrond bid his guests a welcome. Auranor looked at Nestellon with wide, curious eyes.

He replied with a smile and said, "You should go now and rest. You are tired from our adventure through the forest." With that, he nodded and bid Auranor farewell.

Auranor shrugged, and made her way back outside into the gardens. It was only early afternoon, and the evening meal would not be served until much later. She opened the door and walked down the three stone steps onto the stone path. On she strolled through Rivendell, enjoying the wonders of nature it kept. Soon, she came upon a small, tree-sheltered hollow graced by a small stream. Here, she set down her sword against a tree and rested herself upon the ground beside the stream with her back to a rock.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and cleared her mind. She could feel all of the spirits and forces of nature around her. The cool breeze played with her hair and caressed her soft face; the sweet smelling flowers calmed her mind; the stream sang to her a sad song of old lore.

She opened her eyes with a sorrowful sigh. The earlier reminder of her past, though happening over two thousand years ago, still haunted her mind as if it had happened only yesterday. It was still a painful memory to her. First, her father had been killed, then her mother had died of a broken heart. A tragedy like that was enough to scar anyone's heart for all eternity.

Auranor remembered it so vividly. Every time she saw something that triggered the memory, she felt her heart sink to her stomach, and almost became sick with sorrow. But she never cried. Only when she suffered the initial loss did she shed a tear, and at that time, her tears could have flooded the Anduin. She herself almost lost her battle with grief, but forced herself to keep living. Her heart became numb to such sorrow, and she kept to herself all negative emotions. The scar in her heart was so deep, but she tried with all of her will to ignore it.

Auranor opened her eyes and shook herself out of her trance. She looked around at the scenery, forgetting that she was outside. Not sure of how long she had been thinking, Auranor quickly rose and collected her sword. She ran to the path and looked up at the sun. It was mid afternoon, however, she still ran back to Lord Elrond's house with haste, for she had a strange feeling that someone was in trouble.

When she reached the dwelling, she came upon the scene of a frightened and worried looking Arwen, carrying the body of what appeared to be a Halfling.

"What is wrong Arwen?" Auranor asked as she ran to her friend's side.

"He has been stabbed with a Morgul blade, and is quickly passing into the shadows. He won't last much longer. Run! Get my father! Hurry!" Arwen spoke rapidly as she clutched the Hobbit tighter, her voice trembling slightly.

Without another word, Auranor ran to Lord Elrond's study and, without knocking, burst open the doors. As usual, Lord Elrond was sitting at a table with a roll of parchment and a quill. He looked up at her with surprise.

"My Lord, Arwen has returned, but with a badly wounded Halfling. He has been stabbed by a Morgul blade and is quickly passing," she said quickly.

Without a word, Lord Elrond shot up from his seat and dashed to the front gate where Arwen was waiting. Auranor decided it best to fetch Nestellon, beings that he was Elrond's personal healer. She found him in his chamber where she expected he would be, and told him of the news.

Nestellon dropped the quill he was writing with and ran to the door, but stopped before he went any further. "Prepare an athelas ointment and bring it to the third chamber past the Great Hall," he ordered, and was gone.

She did as she was told with haste, and sped to the instructed room. There, Arwen, though no where to be found, had lain the Hobbit on the bed. Lord Elrond and Nestellon were examining the wound.

"The wound is deep, and the poison spreads quickly," Elrond said.

"But thankfully, the blade has missed his heart," Nestellon replied.

Auranor cleared her throat, not wishing to interrupt, but knowing the severity of the situation. The threat on the Hobbit's life was great. The two elves met her gaze, and Nestellon beckoned her to the bedside. He reached out for the athelas paste, and spread it all over the open stab wound. The Hobbit, though seemingly unconscious, wheezed in a deep breath and winced as the ointment seeped into the gash.

The she-elf looked down at the poor Hobbit with pity and concern. His icy blue eyes were glazed over and filmy. The skin of his face looked ghostly pale, and his curly brown hair was soaked with sweat. She gazed at the wound. It was, indeed, very deep. She could see a spidery cluster of blue veins under his thin, pale skin. She shuddered at the sight of it.

"Thank you Auranor," Lord Elrond told her, pulling her attention from the Hobbit. "We shall be able to care for him from here."

Auranor nodded, and set the remainder of the ointment on the bed side table. She gazed at the Hobbit one last time as she walked out the door, saying a silent prayer to the Valar for him. She could hear Elrond and Nestellon chanting a healing prayer in Elvish as she shut the door.

She decided that it was a wise decision to find Arwen and make sure she was well. Slowly, Auranor made her way to Arwen's chamber, her mind straying toward the Halfling. How is it that he came to be stabbed by a Morgul blade? Why were the Nazgul after a Hobbit? Perhaps Arwen would know.

When she came to Arwen's chamber, Auranor stood outside the doorway and asked quietly. "Arwen? Are you there? It is Auranor."

"Just a moment," Arwen whispered from within. She soon appeared at the doorway, and bid Auranor enter. Auranor followed Arwen over to the sitting area by the open, arched pillar wall. She sat down beside Arwen, sensing that her friend was troubled. Both stayed in silence, staring out beyond the silky drapes. The cool evening breeze rippled through the curtains, and the sky outside grew darker with the sun set. They could see a few pale stars beginning to shine as the colors in the sky faded from orange to blue to indigo.

"You are concerned for the Halfling, are you not?" Auranor finally asked Arwen.

"Yes," Arwen replied with a sigh. "Frodo bears with him a heavy burden that is not his to bear."

"Frodo? Frodo Baggins? The nephew that Bilbo has spoken so highly of?" Auranor asked.

"Yes, Frodo Baggins," Arwen answered.

"What is it that he bears with him that the Nazgul desire so? Surely it cannot be what I fear it is?" Auranor asked with concern. "It cannot be the One Ring?"

"Yes, it is the One Ring," Arwen said solemnly. "The one thing that has been lost for so long; the one thing that we so fear in the hands of the enemy; the one thing holds all of the evil of Sauron. It rests, for now, in the care of Frodo Baggins." She closed her eyes trying to blink away tears. But the tears came despite her will.

Auranor stood up and walked over to Arwen. She bent over and embraced her friend in a strong, sisterly hug. "Do not worry. Frodo will be alright. Your father and Nestellon are the most skilled of all Elven healers. They will care for him. They will not allow him to slip into the shadows." She pulled away from Arwen and looked her in the eyes. "Besides, if Frodo is nearly as strong and good-hearted as Bilbo says he is, there is no chance of him falling into the darkness."

Arwen looked back at Auranor and a small smile grew across her face. "Thank you," Arwen said, leaning back into her with a hug.

"Dear Arwen, do not let this worry you so. You should clean up and prepare for the evening meal. Worrying will solve nothing," Auranor said to her reassuringly.

"I will do that," Arwen replied with a grateful smile to her friend.

And with that, Auranor made her way to the door. She paused before she left, looking back at Arwen. "Know that you can talk to me whenever you need to," she said. Arwen nodded her head, and Auranor left the room.

It was true, the evening meal was drawing near, and Auranor was still in her armor. She retreated to her own room and began to ready herself. Quickly, she removed all of her armor and washed up. Then she donned a beautiful velvet dress of forest green that flowed with her every move, showing the soft, golden silk underskirt. Auranor brushed her hair, letting it flow down over her shoulders. Finally, she looked in the mirror and was satisfied. Auranor left the room, heading down to the Dining Hall for dinner.

As Auranor entered the Great Hall, she was greeted by a familiar voice. "I see you no longer recognize your old friends."

Auranor turned around to find a pair of sparkling blue eyes staring down at her and a warm smile encompassed by a long gray beard. "Mithrandir!" she cried. "Is it really you?"

"Aye, it is so," he said.

Auranor rushed towards him, surrounding him in a large hug. "It has been so long since I have last seen you," she said as she released him from the embrace.

"Aye, it has been quite some time," Gandalf replied. "Shall we?" he asked, offering an arm to Auranor, escorting her into the Great Hall.

Dinner progressed as usual, with Elrond at the head of the long table. On either side of Elrond sat his two sons, Elladan and Elrohir. Gandalf sat to the right of Elladan, and the four Dwarves sat to the left of Elrohir. Arwen and Auranor sat across from the Dwarves and beside Gandalf. A multitude of other elves surrounded the remainder of the great table. Nestellon, however, was absent from the feast. Auranor supposed he was still attending to Frodo. During the post meal entertainment, Elrond invited Auranor to sing for the company, as he always did.

After politely accepting a round of applause, Auranor descended from the performance platform and made her way to the door. She walked out onto the terrace and over to the balcony.

As she leaned her arms on the rail, she looked out over at the valley below. It was a breathtaking view, even at night. Auranor could see the running waters on the mighty Bruinen. Across the river, the forest could just be seen in the darkness. She turned her gaze toward the heavens, and was greeted by a luminous array of twinkling stars. She picked out the constellations Menelyagor in the east. Above her, Earendil, most beloved and cherished star of the Elves, sparkled brightly.

"It's a beautiful night," a voice said behind her.

"Indeed, it is a beautiful night," she replied with a sigh.

"Something is bothering you my dear," he said as he walked to her side.

"Yes Mithrandir," she said, expecting that he would sense her trouble. "I revisited some memories of my parents today." She paused, looking up at the sky.

Gandalf understood what she was feeling. He put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly and said, "Just because they are not standing beside you does not mean that they are not here." Auranor looked up at him questioningly. "They are always with you," the wizard said as he patted his heart with a twinkle of wisdom in his eyes.

Auranor smiled sadly at Gandalf and gave him a large hug. "Thank you," she whispered in his ear.

"You are most welcome," he smiled down at her. The two stood in silence, enjoying the view of Rivendell.

"Mithrandir?" Auranor asked suddenly. "May I ask you about something else that has been on my mind?"

"You are concerned for Frodo also," he said.

"Yes, I am," she replied, not surprised that he already knew her question. "Why does he have the One Ring? What is going to be done with it?"

"All will reveal itself in due time," Gandalf replied. He bowed his head to Auranor, and returned to the Great Hall. Auranor sighed, unsatisfied with the answer, and disappeared to her room for the night.

When Auranor awoke, the next morning, she was greeted by the warm sun on her face and the melodies of the song birds. She lounged in bed for a while, enjoying the atmosphere. Then, suddenly, her mind deviated to Frodo. Auranor sprung out of bed, put on her fighting pants, shirt, and boots, and hurried down to Frodo's room.

Nestellon and Elrond were both beside the bed, tending to Frodo's wound. Auranor walked into the room and looked down at him. She noticed that he looked much better than he had the day before. He had some color back in his face, and was sleeping peacefully. The wound was still bruised, but healing nicely. She smiled down at the sleeping Hobbit, glad to see that he was doing better.

"He will be just fine," Nestellon said to her. "He just needs rest."

"I am glad to see that," Auranor replied happily. "Does Arwen know that he is well?" she asked Elrond.

"Yes, she was down earlier. She did not sleep well, and needed to know that he was alright," Elrond answered.

"That is good to know," Auranor said.

"Aragorn and the other Hobbits arrived late last night," Nestellon said.

"Aragorn is here?" Auranor exclaimed. "Where is he?"

"He is still asleep. It was a long, tiring journey, and he needs rest," Nestellon answered.

"Well, after he wakes and visits Arwen, tell him that I am looking for him," Auranor said with mischief showing on her face.

"Oh, I will be sure to let him know," Nestellon replied.

"Good. Well, I have sword training to do. I best be off. Let me know when Frodo wakes. Good day to the both of you." Just as Auranor left the room, she heard Lord Elrond call after her from the door.

"Yes, My Lord," she answered, turning to face him.

"I know you have been worrying about the Ring that Frodo bears and what will be done with it. I can see it in your eyes. Once Frodo has awakened, I will hold a council. I have summoned the leaders of the free peoples of Middle Earth to Rivendell to decide the fate of the One Ring," he told her.

"So that is why the Dwarves are here," she said understandingly.

"Yes, that is why the Dwarves are here. There are men coming from Gondor and other kingdoms," Elrond paused. "I am also expecting guests from Mirkwood."

Auranor looked up at him in surprise. "Mirkwood?"

"Yes, which is part of the reason why I would like you to be in attendance at this council. I also think you may be a valuable mind to have present in this situation," he told her.

"Guests from Mirkwood…" Auranor thought out loud, forgetting his request. "…Forgive me Lord Elrond. I am most honored to attend this council."

"I am glad then," Elrond replied. "After Frodo wakes, I shall decide when exactly this council will meet, but it must be soon."

"Yes My Lord. The One Ring is not a topic on which to delay. A great decision must be made with haste," she added.

"Yes. That it must," he said, and with a nod, returned to Frodo's bedside.

Guests from Mirkwood…how long it had been since she had seen or heard of her home. Her parents, yes she had thought about them, but Mirkwood itself. She made her way to the armory, her thoughts hooked on her past home. She could barely remember the beauty of the deep forest. The Woodland Realm, her true home. Had it changed? Yes, she had heard the stories of the dreaded Dol Guldur and the evil it harbored, but what of the lands yet untouched by that evil? Were they as lovely as she remembered?

Suddenly, she felt herself bump into something hard, and was snapped back to her senses. In front of her stood Elladan with a befuddled look on his face.

"Are you well, My Lady," he asked her with concern. "Has your hearing and sight failed you?"

"Oh, I am so sorry Elladan. My mind was elsewhere," she replied, slightly embarrassed.

"Are you up for a fight?" he asked her, knowing what her answer would be.

"Of course I am! Why do you think I came here?" she replied with a sly grin.

"Then gather your arms and wits, and prepare for a battle that you will most certainly loose," he challenged with a spark of excitement in his eyes. Elladan was a superb warrior, and had insured that Auranor knew all that he had to offer along the lines of sword fighting.

"You had better run then, for I will undoubtedly catch you and make you tremble at my mercy," she cackled, and ran to fetch her sword.

"We shall see, My Lady, who the victor of this battle will be," he taunted back as he took off at a silent run. Before he had time to set a decent pace, Auranor was on his heels, threatening to brandish him with her sword if she caught up.

They reached their favorite fighting spot, and were soon joined by Elrohir. The three battled playfully for quite some time before finally collapsing upon the ground with fatigue.

"Well Auranor, I am quite surprised at how well you have held up with both of us swinging at you," Elrohir said jovially. "I thought for sure you would have given in long ago."

"Elrohir, I think you should know me well enough by now to realize that I don't give up so easily," she said teasingly.

"Yes dear brother," Elladan said to Elrohir. "I am not even that dimwitted to think that she would give up like that." The three elves made their way back to the armory, conversing happily as they walked through the forest.

Auranor entered the armory with the two brothers and they replaced their weapons. As Auranor was about to store her sword, she noticed quiet breathing behind her. In one swift move, she drew her sword and spun around to meet her adversary, blade poised to attack. Her sword clashed with another as she was met face to face with him. A ruggedly handsome man with shoulder length brown hair, a small amount of unkempt, shaggy facial hair, and piercing blue eyes stood opposite her, his sword locked with hers.

"You should know by now that it is impossible for a man to sneak up on an elf. Elf ears greatly surpass the aural abilities of men," she said to the man as she stared him down with narrowed eyes.

"I was not testing your hearing, but the skill of your sword," said the man. "Hearing for miles may help you avoid danger, but when danger is upon you, you hearing will not save you."

"So you wish to test my skill," she challenged. "Then have at!"

She lunged forward with a stab, and he parried accordingly. The man retaliated with a slice to her neck then her abdomen, both of which she blocked. Auranor then shot an upward slice between his legs, which he luckily blocked.

"That would have been quite a cheap shot had it hit," the man said with a relieved snicker.

"Cheap, but in a situation of need, it would have done what I had intended it to do," Auranor replied with a flicker in her eyes. They fought on, slash after slash, block after block, until they finally locked swords with each other in a draw. Out of breath, the two stared each other down.

"You have learned much since last we met Auranor," the man said.

"Yes Aragorn, I have. It seems to me that I am now your equal," she replied with a smile. Aragorn smiled and laughed heartily. The two drew back and replaced their swords.

"Auranor, you would do well if faced with danger. My sword has killed many, but none as skilled as you," Aragorn said sincerely.

"_Aragorn, na-maer tirio lle_," Auranor said, embracing Aragorn in a large hug. He returned the gesture warmly and smiled at the elf.

"And it is good to see you my friend," he replied. "It has been too long since the last that we clashed blades in friendly combat." Auranor giggled at that, and placed her sword on its proper rack.

"Yes, that it has," she agreed. "How have you been as of late?"

"As well as I can be," he replied. "I have roamed far and wide, then back again. My travels have taken me many places, but it feels good to be back." The two conversed over events that had happened in his absence and as they walked slowly back to Elrond's home. Aragorn told of his adventures, and Auranor listened with great interest.

"I wish that I could accompany you on one of those adventures. I want to know what it is like to live in the wilderness, surrounded only by nature and its many secrets," she imagined. "I want to know what it is like to live with danger around every corner."

"It is not an adventure for fun. Great danger is around every bend, and you are the only one on your side against it. There is no one there to help you; you are completely alone, relying only upon your own skill. It is life or death," he said.

"I know I could handle it. I am not your typical elf woman Aragorn. You know that."

"The wild is unforgiving and merciless. It takes pity on no one."

"And that is how I like it," Auranor said with a smile.

"You just don't give up do you, Sister," he said, shaking his head.

"No I do not, Brother," she replied. Both were silent for a moment. Then Auranor asked, "You really do look after me as if I were your sister, Aragorn, don't you?"

"You are the closest thing to a sister I have ever had," he said with a smile. "Of course I look after you as such."

"I am glad to have you for a big brother," she replied genuinely, even though her age greatly succeeded his.

Aragorn smiled back, "And I am glad to have you for a little sister." As they entered the gates of Rivendell, they were met by four golden haired elves.

"Where are they from?" she asked Aragorn.

"I recognize the one on the right," he said. "He is Legolas, Prince of the Woodland Realm."

"They are from Mirkwood?" she asked, surprised. Elrond had told her that he was expecting guests from Mirkwood, but she did not expect them to arrive so soon. She hadn't even had time ponder the idea. Aragorn made his way up to the elves with Auranor following.

"Hail friends of the Woodland Realm! Welcome to Rivendell." he said to them in Elvish.

Legolas walked to Aragorn with an outstretched arm. "_Im gelir tirio lle ad nin meldir_." They grasped each other's forearm with a friendly squeeze.

Auranor watched the elf with interest. He was quite handsome. His long and golden hair was much like her own, and partially tied back in a braid that flowed down his back and behind the tips of his gracefully pointed ears. His dusty blue eyes sparkled with joy as he spoke to Aragorn. Auranor studied his features, tracing a line from his strong jaw up to the point of his ears with her eyes. He caught her staring at him, and she looked away quickly, pretending she was extremely interested in a flowed beside her foot.

"Who is your friend Aragorn?" Legolas asked, looking strangely at her unladylike attire.

"Oh, forgive me for not introducing her," Aragorn replied. "This is Auranor, daughter of Thalion and Gailawen of your realm. Auranor, this is Legolas Greenleaf, Prince of Mirkwood."

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Your Highness," Auranor said as she bowed her head.

"The pleasure is all mine, My Lady. Please call me Legolas. There is no need to see me as a prince. I wish to be seen as a common elf, not a royal," he said to her kindly.

"As you wish My Lord," she said.

"Allow me to usher you and your kin into Lord Elrond's keep," Aragorn said. The elves and man strolled through Rivendell, as Auranor had with Nestellon and the Dwarves.

Legolas and Aragorn talked happily and the other elves of his kin chatted amongst themselves. Auranor walked silently, secretly listening to Aragorn and the elf prince with great interest.

"Aragorn said that you are from my homeland," Legolas said to Auranor.

She snapped out of her own thoughts. "Yes, I am from Mirkwood," she said, trying to push the sad memories from her mind, but knowing that she would have to share them with her company.

"I recognize your father's name, but fail to clearly remember any more. If you are from Mirkwood, then I must have met you before. I make it a point to know all the people of my realm," he inquired.

"I have not been to the Woodland Realm for centuries," she said. "My parents were friends with King Thranduil. My father was a Captain in the army, and my mother, a maiden of the court."

"If your parents are close to my father, then why do you live here in Rivendell?" he asked.

"My father was killed by orcs and my mother died of a broken heart afterwards. Your father sent me here for my own safety, and I have not had the heart to return," she said sadly.

"Oh," Legolas said, regretting that he had asked. "I am sorry that I caused you to relive that memory."

"It still hurts to remember, but I have grown used to it, especially of late," she said, looking at the ground. "But do not despair. You only asked a simple question, and I answered. It is not a thing to worry over." She looked back at him with a small smile, hoping that he did not feel badly for his inquiry.

Auranor watched the elf, feeling that she had met him before, and knowing that he felt the same. 'But he is the Prince of Mirkwood,' she thought. 'You may have been closely associated with the royals, but you couldn't possibly have met the prince."

The group continued to their destination in silence, and Auranor and Aragorn departed their own ways. Auranor went to her own room to change out of her armor. She adorned a silk, lilac dress with sleeves that flowed off the shoulders in gentle waves of fabric. It danced about her in the cool breeze like the bought of the trees. She then tied her hair back in two braids that framed her face and met at the back of her head.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps approach her room, and stop outside her door. "Yes, please come in," she said before the visitor could ask to enter.

She turned to greet her guest, finding that it was Nestellon. "Auranor," he said anxiously. "Frodo has awakened."

**

* * *

Response to Reviews**

**Seriously Wrong** – If you don't like the story, then that is fine, don't read it. But there is no need to rip on it. A little respect goes a long way. Any true author already knows that, and has a respect for those who delight in the same art because they understand how difficult it is to be a writer. They give their opinion through constructive criticism, but they still respect the work of their fellow authors. You wouldn't walk into the Louvre and start scribbling all over the Mona Lisa just because you thought it sucked, would you? Then again, maybe you would.

**Saber Apricot** – Thanks for the help! I always appreciate constructive criticism because it helps me learn from my mistakes, and I really respect people who offer such advice. Don't take all of this as retaliation to criticism; I just want to clarify a few things. Aruanor is, indeed, a very untypical character for a female elf because I did the corny "build the character from your own traits" sort of thing. Auranor is a bit of a reflection of myself by being the warrior because I have taken karate for almost 11 years. I thought it would be different and interesting to put that type of character in the story, and help me a little in writing it since I can relate to her personality. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a feminazi, but I always appreciate a female character, such as Eowen, who is strong and can hold her own. As for the hair and eyes, I thought I read somewhere that the Elves did have blue eyes, and it was thought that the Mirkwood elves were possibly blonde. I didn't just do that because of the movie. I'm not sure if I'll change that though because it is kind of my way of setting Legolas and Auranor apart by being physically different. I'm not sure how big of a deal that will be later though. I wasn't sure what to call Auranor other than she-elf. I was flipping through my Sindarian language tools and the only real thing I found for a female elf was she-elf. I thought of elf maiden, but didn't want to overuse the term, as I tend to do at times. I don't know if the stones in the swords will be significant or not because I'm writing this as I go, and I don't really have a concrete plan for it. I know Auranor will have some sort of larger role in the outcome of the story, but nothing along the lines of directly helping Frodo like Sam does. Like I said, I'm writing as I go. Auranor talking back was a little of my personality creeping into the character again. Rivendell was not meant to be a "fantasyland" escape from reality, but more of a way of getting her away from Mirkwood and the memories attached. I see Rivendell as a very tranquil place with an almost healing atmosphere to it. I explain this briefly later on in the story, but intend to progress what the readers discover about her past through the entire tale. King Thranduil sent her there because he believed that she would constantly be reminded of her parents if she stayed in Mirkwood. He feared for her life and sent her to Rivendell almost as a way of trying to eliminate that from happening to her by giving her an opportunity to heal her heart without constant reminders of the event. Auranor just never really returned to Mirkwood because she feared that actually returning to her old home would destroy her, even though she acts rather unemotionally. The memory still pains her greatly, but she is attempting to not let it bother her too much. She is a confusing character and, again, I think that is a little of my own personality leaking into her. Perhaps she is too human to be an elf. Thank you for the comments! I would appreciate it if you kept reading as I post things because I can use all the help I can get. I just hope that you don't think I'm a complete moron for writing LOTR legomance fiction. Many people think than and automatically start ripping on the author. I just hope you don't get annoyed with it because it's probably going to be a little cheesy. By the way, you definitely fall under the true author category I mentioned above.


	3. Ch2: The Council of Elrond

**Chapter 2  
**_The Council of Elrond_

Dinner that evening was a very joyous occasion. Frodo had indeed awakened, and Lord Elrond thought it appropriate to hold a great celebration in honor of the Ring-bearer and his guests from afar. Present were the Dwarves, a group of men that had arrived throughout the day, the Elves from Mirkwood, the Hobbits, Aragorn, Gandalf, and the regulars of Rivendell. The table was full of happy, chattering guests, eager to share tidings from their kingdoms. Auranor had the pleasure of sitting next to Frodo, and found amusement in relieving him from hearing of the boring tales that the Dwarf on his opposite side had to tell.

Frodo was a very interesting Hobbit. He had curly, shaggy, dark brown hair, and the brightest blue eyes that Auranor had ever seen. He was very quiet at first, no doubt because he was still tired, but he soon warmed up to Auranor, and spoke to her as if they were old friends. He told her about The Shire and of the merry events that he had the pleasure of attending there. He seemed to stray from any mention of the ring or such topics. Auranor understood why, because she knew the frustration and pain he felt every time it was mentioned, for she felt similar pain at the mention of her parents. She knew he would undergo enough strife the next day at the Council of Elrond.

After dinner, Elrond invited Auranor to sing for his guests as he always did. When she was through, she again made her way out onto the balcony to gaze at the scenery. She closed her eyes and let the wind dance through her hair.

"You have a beautiful voice," she heard someone say behind her.

"Thank you Your Highness," she said as she turned to face him.

"Please, call me Legolas," he said. He walked to her side and gazed at the vista. "It is strange, but I feel like I have met you before, however I can't recall when or where."

"I feel the same," she admitted. "But every time I think so, I tell myself that it is impossible because you are the Prince."

"Your voice, I have heard it somewhere before," he said, puzzled.

"Perhaps you have heard my mother, Gailawen. She used to sing at court for your father. I remember him saying once that she had the most beautiful voice that he had ever heard."

"I remember her," Legolas said. "She has passed that voice to you." He paused, then suddenly spoke. "I have met you before. We were childhood playmates."

"I cannot recall," Auranor said, thinking hard.

"You were the little girl who always wanted to play with the boys. You preferred to fight with swords rather than play with dolls," Legolas commented.

"Yes, I was that way," Auranor giggled. "I always wanted to play tough. That is the little bit of my father in me."

"Do you remember the one little boy that dared you to go off into the woods all alone to prove that you weren't afraid of the dark.?" he asked her with a grin.

"Yes, I do remember that," she answered, puzzled that he knew of that incident. She studied his eyes for an answer, then it hit her..

"That was you?" she asked in amazement. "That was the Prince of Mirkwood who dared me to go into the woods? I remember now. I do remember the boy who dared me, but I had no idea that it was you, even at the time."

"I knew that we had crossed paths before," Legolas said.

"Indeed, we have," she agreed. She sighed, looking back over the view. It was her favorite thing to do every night.

"The night is calm," Auranor said. "Too calm."

"A sign of troubled times to come," he replied. Auranor looked over at Legolas with concern in her eyes, then down at her own hands resting on the rail of the balcony.

"Well, it is getting late. I have a feeling that tomorrow's council is going to be quite tedious," Auranor said. "I believe I will retire for the night."

"Yes, it is getting late, and tomorrow promises to be a long, tiring day," Legolas agreed.

"I shall see you in the morn. _Navare Legolas_," she said with a slight bow of her head.

"_Losto mae hiril nin_," he replied. As Auranor left the balcony, Legolas watched her with a small smile. He returned his gaze to the scenery, reflecting on the discovery of an old friend. 'I knew she was familiar," he thought. 'Her beautiful voice was the last clue. I knew…wait, did she say that the council would be time consuming? Is she going to be there? She has beautiful eyes. Wait, did I just say that? Well, it is true. I wonder if she will be present at the council. Well, I guess I shall see tomorrow.'

Auranor lay in her bed thinking about the day's events. 'Frodo is very nice. It is a pity that he had to bear that Ring. Elrond will figure out what to do with it tomorrow. Ugh, the council is going to be so long and boring. Well, Legolas will be there. Hey, wait, I can't sit and stare at him the entire time. Well, he is exceptionally good looking. Did I just say that? Well, it is true. I can't believe I knew him when I was younger. I'm ashamed that I didn't remember. I could just get lost in his eyes. Ah! No, that would never happen. He is a Prince, and I am just an elf maiden who prefers weapons and pants over mirrors and dresses. There is just no way.'

As Auranor took her seat beside Aragorn at the Council of Elrond, she noticed the great amount of people that had been invited to attend. In all, there were twenty one present, and twenty one chairs sat in a circle surrounding a stone pillar in the center. Auranor looked around. At the head of the council sat Lord Elrond with Elladan and Elrohir on either side. The three were set a little apart from the rest of the group. To Elrohir's left sat Frodo, and next to him was Gandalf. Next to Gandalf sat two of the blond-haired Elves that had arrived with Legolas. After them sat Legolas, and to his left was another blond haired elf. Two gray-haired Men were seated after the Elves. Then came a silver-haired Dwarf, Gloin, Gimli, and a brown-haired Dwarf. After them sat three men, the middle one Auranor recognized as Boromir of Gondor, whom she had met at dinner the previous night. Next came Nestellon, herself, and finally Aragorn.

"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old," Elrond spoke, "you've been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." The nervous Hobbit slowly approached the pedestal and placed the Ring at the center. All of the company gasped in disbelief at the sight.

"So it is true," Boromir whispered. All were silent as they took in the sight before them.

"It is a gift," Boromir spoke as he stood up. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this Ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him."

"You cannot wield it," Aragorn said. Boromir turned to face him. "None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"And what would a ranger know of this matter?" Boromir retaliated arrogantly.

Legolas stood up with purpose and said, "This is no mere ranger. He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."  
"Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked in disbelief while shooting Aragorn a doubtful glance.

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," Legolas defended.

"_Havo dad, Legolas_," Aragorn said, trying to prevent any outbreak.

Boromir looked at Legolas menacingly, then at Aragorn. "Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king." He sat back down, disgusted with the idea of being in the presence of Gondor's true king. He shot an evil glair at Aragorn, and Aragorn looked at Auranor with sad eyes.

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf spoke out. "We cannot use it."

Elrond stood up, looking around at the gathered peoples. "You have only one choice. The Ring must be destroyed." Everyone shook their heads in angst, knowing that it would come to this.

Then Gimli spoke up determinedly. "Then what are we waiting for?" He stood up, grabbing his axe, and hurled it down upon the Ring. On contact, the ax shattered into pieces and the Dwarf was thrown to the ground. Auranor looked over at Frodo, noticing that he was holding his head, seeming to be in pain. Gandalf also noticed. An evil voice seemed to whisper in the wind.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess," Elrond said calmly. "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this." Elrond looked around at the company, who sat in complete silence.

"One does not simply walk into Mordor," Boromir said with frustration. "Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten-thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

Legolas, again, stood up. "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The Ring must be destroyed."

Gimli looked up at the Elf viciously, "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it."

Boromir stood up, "And if we fail, what then? What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

Gimli stood up and looked at Legolas. With a voice full of rage, he spat out, "I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" At that, the entire council stood up in argument. The Elves argued with the Dwarves, the Men with the Men, The Elves with the Men, the Men with the Dwarves.

Gimli could be heard above all others, "Never trust an Elf!"

Gandalf sat in his seat, shaking his head. Elrond sat back down, thinking the same as Gandalf. Elladan and Elrohir still sat beside Elrond's chair. Nestellon and Aragorn sat where they were, both watching the argument. Gandalf suddenly stood up and joined the feud with his retaliations. All the while, Auranor sat in her seat watching Frodo. He stared continuously at the ring, pain and anguish growing on his face. It was as if the Ring had him in a trance.

He then stood up with determination across his face. "I will take it," he said, trying to be heard over the ruckus. "I will take it," he repeated a little louder, catching Gandalf's attention. The wizard turned to Frodo with pure sadness in his eyes. The company seemed to hear him this time and all quieted down. "I will take the Ring to Mordor." All looked at him in disbelief. Concern came across his face, "Though, I do not know the way."

Gandalf walked towards Frodo, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I will help you bear this burden Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."

Aragorn stood up, "If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." He approached the Hobbit and knelt before him. "You have my sword." Gandalf shot a knowing glance at Elrond, who grinned slightly at the event before his eyes.

Legolas approached Frodo. "And you have my bow."

Gimli, not willing to let an Elf be more helpful than he said, "And my axe." He then joined the group.

"You carry the fates of us all Little One," Boromir said, approaching Frodo. "If this is indeed the will of the Council, the Gondor will see it done."

Auranor stood up with pure will and determination written in her eyes. She walked to Frodo and looked him in the eyes. "Though I am but a woman, I feel a need to do what I can to help you. I make it my duty and privilege to walk by your side through all dangers Frodo. You have my sword as well." At that, Nestellon stood up rapidly to protest, but Elrond shook his head at him.

Then, from behind a group of bushes, was heard another voice, "Here!" Another Hobbit with shaggy blond hair ran from his hiding spot to Frodo's side. "Mr. Frodo's not going anywhere without me," He said as he crossed his arms, not willing to be turned away.

"No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you," Elrond said with an amused look. "Even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."

"Hey! We're coming too!" cried a voice from behind a pillar. Two more Hobbits ran from their hiding places, one with scruffy dirty blonde hair, the other with brown. They ran to Frodo's side.

"You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us," the blonde one said.

"Anyway," said the brown haired one. "You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission…quest…thing." The Hobbit stood tall and proud, feeling that he had made an important point. Everyone stood in disbelief at the boldness of the Hobbits.

The blonde one threw a look at the other and said sarcastically, "Well that ruled you out, Pip." The brown haired Hobbit smiled at the other in agreement, then, realizing what was said, threw a dirty look at his friend.

"Ten companions," said Elrond proudly. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.

The Hobbit called Pip agreed, "Right." He then looked from his friend to Lord Elrond and asked, "Where are we going." The company just shook their heads and laughed.

Upon the closing of the council, Nestellon took Auranor aside with an infuriated look.

"You are a woman. It is not proper for you to go out on a task like this. I simply will not allow it! It is far too dangerous," he scolded.

"Nestellon, you do not understand," Auranor tried to explain.

"No, I will not have it! My word is final!" He stormed off, but Auranor caught him by the arm.

"Nestellon, hear me out!" she said forcefully. "I do this for Frodo, yes, but that is not my only reason. The day that my parents died, I made an oath to myself. I swore that I would not allow myself to live peacefully until their deaths were avenged. I promised that to myself, and I promised that to them at their graves. I do not care what you say or do to prevent me from leaving, but I will go with this Fellowship, and do what I feel in my heart is right."

Nestellon looked at her understandingly, but with a little anger still present. "Auranor, I am only looking out for your safety. I see you as my family, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you."

Auranor saw the concern in his eyes. "Dear Uncle, I am not a child, I can take care of myself. You have taught me well." She sighed as she shook her head. "Why do you think I was so eager to learn how to fight when I arrived in Rivendell? Because I knew that I would fulfill this oath someday, and I wanted to be ready when the time came. You are the best fighter I have ever met, and am honored to have you as my teacher. Besides, even if something were to happen, I will be surrounded by men, Aragorn namely. He looks after me as if I were his sister. He would never allow any harm to befall me." She gazed at Nestellon with hopeful, determined eyes.

Nestellon sighed with sorrow. "If it is that important to you, then I will not stand in your way. Mind you, however, that I still frown upon the whole idea."

Auranor happily threw her arms around Nestellon in a huge hug. "Thank you Uncle!" she whispered in his ear as she planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Just be careful. Never let your guard down. Always keep an alert eye and ear," he said as he returned the embrace.

**Response to Reviews **

**Chunkymonkey259 – **I completely changed the summary, so you must have seen it before it was updated. Elrond is no longer in it  
because I couldn't fit that much in the space given. Yeah, it is kinda a Mary-Sue but not really because modern day girl doesn't fall into Middle Earth. Auranor already lives there, but even thought she is an Elf, she is not perfect. That shall be seen later on in the story. She does know a lot about fighting, which, as I said to Saber Apricot, is indeed uncharacteristic of a female in general, let alone a female Elf, but there is a lot of my personality in the character, and I also wanted to make her a bit different from the typical Mary-Sue character. As for the sword, I'm not sure if that will play a part yet or not. I'm coming up with ideas as I write, and there is no solid plan for the story. When I wrote the part, I just thought it would be cool to have a sword that looked like that. But I love bladed weapons, so that is just me. Not all Middle Earth weaponry is entirely simple though. Sting, for instance, is really intricately crafted, especially with its ability to detect orcs. At least the way it is crafted for the movie is not simple, but weather or not that is the way Tolkien envisioned, only he knows. The day I wrote about the dress, I actually received the dress I am to use for the character I play at the local Renaissance Festival, so I was really excited about it, and it rubbed off into the story. My dress looks nothing like Auranor's, but I was in the Rennie costume mood. When it comes to the Gandalf issue, more about their past will be reveled later in the story. I like to write in a way that doesn't tell everything right at the beginning. The reader learns things like that as the story goes on, along with more details about Auranor's past with her parents. Be patient, more will come! As for her knowledge of the Ring, I thought people would assume that since she has lived with Elrond and his family, she would have at least heard of it and recent news concerning it. It IS Elrond, he who has been gifted with foresight. He regarded her almost as another daughter, so she knew of such secret things, as I'm sure Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen did as well. Thanks for your input. I will keep your suggestions in mind as I continue writing.

**Seriously Wrong – **O.K., first of all, I never suggested that my work was of Mona Lisa quality, the example was just that, an example. A little extreme it was, but I am definitely not comparable to daVinci. The man was a freaken genius that few can ever be comparable to. I admit, I wasn't in the greatest of moods when I answered your previous review, and I was very harsh. I'm not typically like that. I'm a bit of a perfectionist, and take things to heart. I can become extremely defensive about my work, weather it be writing, drawing, karate, acting, etc. I understand that Mary-Sues are very overdone, but I don't really care. I'm gonna write what I want anyway because it is what I want to do. Everyone has their own fantasies about something, so I'm just joining the crowd in sharing mine. If some people like it, then great, but if not, oh well. As I said before, if it is not your cup of tea, then don't drink it. I'm not making you read the story. But if you choose to keep reading on, then do so. I plan on writing other LOTR stuff later after this is complete, and I don't plan on making it a Mary-Sue. I have more creativity than this story suggests. I actually thought it would be interesting to write a version from the eyes of Sam, almost like it were his part of the book that Frodo gives him to add to at the end of the story. But that will have to wait until this one is complete.

**Saber Apricot – **I think I will leave the blonde hair anyways. Personally, I like it, but I will give it some more thought. That characteristic is not part of me though. My hair has been more colors than I can count. It has been blonde, but I saw a picture of myself with it long, blonde, and completely undone, and I looked like a line with an extremely bad mane day, so I have vowed never to go blonde again. My hair is a strawberry red right now, and I think I will make it a honey brown for my senior pictures. About Rivendell as a "fantasy land" I will work on revising that part so it is clearer. Thanks for the encouragement though. I appreciate a lot. As I said to **Seriously Wrong**, I am a perfectionist, tend to take things to heart, and can become very defensive about my work. Once I get to that point, I begin to doubt what I have already done, and consider scrapping it. The encouragement definitely helps me want to continue. I still say you fit the true writer, especially after reading you profile. That confirmed it. Thanks! Keep reading.

**Seyyada – **Thanks so much! I'm glad that some people like it. It gives me incentive to keep writing. I'll try to cut out some of the detail, but it's gonna be hard. I like detail, but I'll try to keep the story moving. I will warn now though, I'm not gonna advance the love interest between Legolas and Auranor quickly. A pet peeve of mine is when two characters just met and are already in a closet making out, because it doesn't happen that way in real life. There may be some romantic development in Moria, and maybe major development in Lothlorien, but I'm not sure on that yet. Thanks for the input. Keep reading!

**Jinxeh – **Thanks for the input. I tried to keep as close as I could to Tolkien's writing style, but wasn't completely successful in that attempt. I did try extensively to do that with the dialogue. I am a character at the local Renaissance Festival, so I have some knowledge of Olde English, which helped a lot. I feel attracted to that type of dialogue, I think because it sounds intelligent. I'm not the brightest crayon in the box, but I tried my best to keep with Tolkien's style of dialogue. It definitely wouldn't be a very convincing character if Auranor the Elf girl went around saying "Hey, Aragorn! Dude, your fly's open. You gotta fix that so them damn orcs don't chop off the prized family jewels. Youz gonna need an heir to the throne some day, and Arwen can't help you there unless you can hold up your end of the bargen, hahaha!" Your story sounds pretty interesting. I'm gonna have to read it. It sounds like a different take of the Sortof –Sue story. Thanks foe reviewing! Keep reading!

**PrincessofRain – **Thanks lots! I'm glad you like the story. I actually started learning Sindarian shortly after seeing The Two Towers, however, I didn't see it until shortly before Return of the King came out. I got involved in the LOTR craze towards the end. I wish I would have gotten involved sooner, but I'm a schmuck that didn't know it existed before the movies. Tsk on me. I know enough Elvish to understand stuff, but most of the phrases I used I checked up on I had a good idea of what they were, but needed to double check. There are still many, many things concerning Sindarian that completely confuse me. It is a very complicated, intricate language. I just gotta say that Tolkien was a fricken genius, definitely comparable to da Vinci, only for writing and linguistics rather than art. Thanks for the encouragement! I'm glad that there are people out there who like the story. Keep reading!


	4. Ch3: Even the Most Alert Falter

**Chapter 3  
**_Even the Most Alert Falter_

Lord Elrond had deemed it necessary to send out scouts before the departure of the Fellowship of the Ring to ensure the safety of its travelers. He told the Fellowship to take advantage of this time and rest, for it would be many days and nights before they would again rest peacefully.

Already a month had the Fellowship stayed in Rivendell without sign from the scouts. Aragorn and Legolas had set out just three days before to scout the area around Rivendell. At that time, Auranor, being the elf she was, demanded that she be allowed to go out as a scout. Elrond told her that it was best for her to stay in Rivendell. But Auranor would have none of it. She knew she would soon have the opportunity to begin avenging her parent's deaths, but was far too eager for her own good to begin the task. She stubbornly insisted on going, and Elrond finally gave in.

Elrond, however, was a wise elf, and thought it possible that Auranor may realize her fault in leaving. Through his gift of foresight, he knew that there was a risk, but hoped no harm would befall her, Nonetheless, he thought she could use a lesson in the danger of being too eager. So, Auranor went. She said that she would not stray too far from Rivendell, and would return in a few days time. Lord Elrond watched as she departed, hoping she would return safely with a new respect for and understanding of taking vengeance. He sighed and turned back to his study as Auranor disappeared from his vision.

The she-elf rode hard into the wilderness on her brown stallion Moragil. Her sword and knife were secured in their sheathes, and some lembas bread was stowed in a small pouch on her belt. She journeyed west towards the Weathered Hills, hoping to make her way to the only forests where the athelas plant was known to grow. She knew Nestellon needed to refill his stock and thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to gather some extra for the journey ahead. Of course, all the while, she would be watching for spies of the enemy.

Auranor was four days out from Rivendell, and nearing her destination. Moragil was one of the fastest horses she had ever ridden, and it felt as if she was flying through the forest on his back. The trip should have taken six days by foot but the speed of the strong horse got the elf to her destination much faster. Moragil brought Auranor south of the Weathered Hills and the East-West Road to a patch of woods. It was November, and the trees were almost naked of leaves. She dismounted the horse and stood before the wilderness. Within those woods lay the plant that she searched for, but the growth was too thick for Moragil to follow.

She turned to her horse and patted his head. "Well, my friend, I must go where you cannot follow. It is far too thick in there for you to go. I must go alone." The horse looked at his master with understanding eyes. "You should not stay here though, for you may be caught. Go where you please, but meet me back here in three hours time. If something was to happen and I do not return by then, return to Rivendell." Auranor grabbed a small leather pouch from the saddle bag and tucked it in her boot. She stroked Moragil's mane a final time, then sent him off. Auranor stood with the great woods before her. She took a deep breathe and entered the brush.

On she walked, through the undergrowth. With each step she took, the trees grew in thicker around her, and the world became dark. Auranor drew her sword, Dinenumarth, and began hacking at the jagged bushes. The plants seemed to know her intentions with the sword, and fought back, clinging and grabbing a hold of her skin with their thorns. But she did not care, and fought back harder. On and on she went through the darkness, not knowing if and where she would emerge.

Just when she thought she would give up and turn back, she caught a glimpse of light through a bush in front of her. Auranor made her way toward the light, hacking and chopping as she went. Finally, she sliced through the last bush, and walked out into the light. She entered a large clearing, encompassed by the little light that the dismal, cloudy day would allow. She stopped there and was quiet. She could feel the spirits of nature around her. It was as if they were warning her of something, but she knew not what. She looked up at the dark gray clouds and could smell rain on the air. Ignoring the warning, she went on quickly to find what she sought.

She walked quietly into the clearing, searching for the athelas plant. She turned her head to the left, and a few feet in front of her, she spied a small cluster of white flowers. "At last," she thought, "the athelas." She made her way to where the weeds lay rooted into the ground. Auranor knelt down beside the plant and drew her knife, Torhathol. She grasped the plant at its base, and sliced it from its roots. She then removed a leather pouch from her boot and took from it, a small, slightly oiled leather cloth. Carefully, she wrapped the athelas in the cloth, and replaced it in the pouch. She continued to do this for each athelas plant she saw surrounding the first. At one point, she stopped to listen. She thought she heard someone breathing and the crunch of footsteps on the ground. She looked around and, seeing nothing, continued on with her work.

As she bent over to remove the last plant from the ground, she heard the sound again, only closer. She sat there, bent over, listening. Suddenly, a large foot stepped down on top of the plant she was tending to, crushing it and almost her hand. Auranor raised her hear to look at the owner of the foot. Standing before her was a small battalion of twelve orcs.

"Well, well boys, what do we have here?" said the orc who almost crushed her hand. She could tell he was the leader by his authoritative attitude and overwhelming ugliness.

"Heh, heh, heh…looks like a she-elf to me Boss, and one that we caught off guard," said one of the orcs. He looked like a wagon had run over the center of his face, and his eyes were deformed.

"No, Shagog, it's a Halfling," said the leader sarcastically. "Of course it's a she-elf!" he bellowed. The other orcs looked at Shagog and laughed hysterically. "Now the question is what shall we do with her…or rather…to her?"

"I say we hang her by her neck and cut off each of her fingers and toes one by one," suggested a one eyed orc with a sneer as he stared Auranor in the eye. The rest of the orcs jabbered in approval.

Then an orc with melted looking skin over one eye and a missing ear proposed another idea. "No, no. We should grease her up and hang her out for the wargs." Again, the rest of the orcs nod and ramble in agreement.

All the while, Auranor sat hunched up against a large oak tree behind her, trembling and pondering her odds of survival. She observed the orcs as they argued over her torture and demise. There were ten of them, but they all seemed to be as dimwitted as trolls, except the leader. He seemed to have at least half a brain unlike the rest of them who had no brain at all. Auranor knew that she need to do something, fast.

"…But why feed her to the wargs when we can just eat her ourselves?" asked one of the orcs. "Aye! Fresh food!" cried all of the orcs in jubilation. "Meat is back on the menu boys!" the leader exclaimed.

"I couldn't agree better myself!" Auranor cried as she jumped up, drew her sword, and swiftly sliced off the head of the orc standing closest to her. She stood there, ready to fight with her sword poised between her and the enemy, as the orc's head rolled to the ground and the body crumpled into a heap upon the grass. The rest of the orcs eyes stared from Auranor to there fallen comrade and back to her again. The entire clearing was silent. Auranor could see the rage building in the eyes of the remaining orcs. They started to breathe heavier and their faces contorted with anger.

"I do not fear you," she coaxed them. "Come and get me." Auranor smirked at them and dashed around the tree. The entire assembly of orcs charged after her with a thunderous war cry. She ran swiftly, constantly changing her direction, and having no problem splitting up the orcs. Once she had thoroughly confused all of them, she doubled back, retracing her steps to find them one by one.

The first orc she encountered was entirely confused. It circled around in place, expecting something to attack it from every direction, and jumping at every slight noise it heard. Auranor grinned at the sight. "This one will be easy," she muttered to herself. She stealthily snuck up on it, using the trees for cover as she made her way. She stooped behind a small maple tree about ten feet away from the orc. The elf placed her hand on the ground to keep her balance, and felt a small stone lying under her palm. She grasped it in her hand, picking it up to look at. A large smirk appeared across her mouth as she looked from the rock to her still confused victim. 'I can at least have a little fun,' she thought to herself.

Auranor hurled the rock at the orc, and it hit it right on top of its bald head. It sprung into the air in shock and fear. Rubbing its head with one hand and holding its sword in a death grip with the other, it circled around faster, peering off into the woods around him.

"Wh-… who… who's there?" it shakily inquired. She could hear the panic in its voice.

"Your worst nightmare!" the elf bellowed as she revealed herself from hiding. She charged the terrified orc, sword at the ready, and with one strong hack, the orc was sprawled upon the ground, dead before he knew what was happening.

"You never had a chance," Auranor said with a laugh as she stared down at his dead corpse, shaking her head at him in disappointment. She then traveled on, searching for the next orc. Before long, five more orcs lay slain in a similar way, not one of them prepared for the surprise attack.

Feeling pretty confident, Auranor slyly continue on to find the remaining six orcs. She knew she was a good fighter, but was not arrogant about it. However, when the need called, she could get the job done quickly and correctly.

Before long, she heard voices not too far ahead of her. Auranor could tell it was the enemy by their gruff, frustrated tone. She could hear them walking in her direction, so she crouched down behind a tree, as she had done before. Auranor waited there silently for them to appear. She knew that all six of the remaining orcs had found each other and kept in their group because she could hear six pairs of feet tramping heavily on the dirt towards her.

Finally, she could see them nearing her hiding spot. All six of them were walking very cautiously with their battle worn swords drawn. Auranor knew this time was not going to be as easy as the others.

"Where is that wretch Grazgor? I want to rip her to pieces!" Shagog declared to the leader.

"Be quiet you moron or she will hear you!" harped Grazgor. Auranor smiled to herself, knowing the irony in his statement.

"I need a breather Boss. We have been on the run forever," grumbled an orc with a huge, crudely mended scar slice down the left side of his face. "My legs are tired. I could use some food too."

"Us too," agreed the rest of the orc company.

"Fine then, you get five minutes, and five minutes only. We are sitting targets if we stop. So if you see her, sound the alarm and kill her on the spot," Grazgor agreed, reluctantly, yet thankfully, seeming as if he could also use a break.

One orc with a half upturned nose and one eye sewn shut started walking toward the tree Auranor was hiding behind. She took a deep, silent breath, preparing to attack if it caught sight of her, but it turned its back on the tree as he approached and sat on the ground, leaning against it. Silently she let out that breath, thankful that the orc didn't attack. Then, an idea occurred to her. She smiled slyly to herself and made ready to carry out her plan. Auranor quietly drew Torhathol, and ran her thumb across the edge of the blade. She took a deep breath and peaked around the side of the tree.

The five other orcs were occupied searching for a small woodland creature they could make a fast meal out of, but the one who sat at the tree was still there. Opportunity had knocked on her door, and Auranor took it. She stealthily moved out from behind the tree. Elves could walk more silently than the most cautious of deer. She glided around the tree and was in clear reach of the resting orc. With a lightning fast jump, she landed behind the orc, and with her hand over its mouth so that its scream couldn't be heard, Auranor sliced a wide, cavernous gash through its throat, then stabbed the long, bloodstained blade of Torhathol through the gap of skin between the collar bone and shoulder blade. The orc's fate was grim and horrific: to bleed to death, slowly and painfully. Auranor removed her hand from its mouth, and resumed her hiding, but high within the branches of a different tree. She could hear the dying orc gurgle as it struggled to obtain the attention of the other orcs, but expired before it could succeed. Only seconds after its last breath, the other orcs learned of his fate.

"Where is that scum? Ashgazmog?" yells one of them. "Hey, Morgul Rat…Ashgazmog…" The inquiring orc turned to see why his companion hadn't answered, and with anger and vengeance emitted a bellowing roar upon seeing the fate of Ashgazmog.

"What?" asked Grazgor as he turned to face the angered orc.

"Ashgazmog is dead, slain he is. Slashed across the throat," was the reply. Grazgor turned to face the tree where the dead orc lay, and was astonished and furious at the sight.

"That she-elf!" it roared. "When I get my hands on her, I'll make her suffer like…like…AAAGGGGGGHHHHHH! Where is she!" And with that, the remaining five orcs drew their swords, and together, let out their war cry. That was it, and she knew it. Auranor knew that she had to be fast and deadly accurate. One mistake and she would be done. Five against one, sure she had done it in the past, but not against five orcs who's rage was worse than that of all of her past enemies combined.

The five stalked through the nearby trees, ready to kill the elf at first sight. She was still hiding high up in the tree, waiting for one to get close enough to drop on top of. She didn't have to wait long. An orc with crater holes all over its face and a deformed lump of flesh on the top of its head walked directly under her tree; a perfect set up directly under her. It paused to look around, and Auranor instantly dropped onto its shoulders. With a swift snap and twist, she broke its neck, and it dropped to the ground. One down, four to go.

Grazgor saw her, and with rage flowing like a crested river through its veins, ran the short distance to where she had landed. Auranor heard it, but could not turn around to face it quickly enough. She felt a hard, solid blow on the back of her head. It began to throb instantly, and her vision became blurred. Auranor tried to shake off the hit, but the last thing she remembered was watching the trees turn sideways as she collapsed to the ground and hearing a violent growl from Grazgor. Then everything was dark.

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**Response to Reviews**

**Eathiln- **I'm glad you like it! I tried to mix up movie and book to keep it interesting. I've written up to where they enter Moria, but it needs revised because it is pretty boring. Nothing much happens beyond what is written in the book. I need to come up with some new, unique situations that utilize the characters better, but stay true to the original story. I think I'm failing miserably, but we'll see after I post it. Auranor probably wouldn't be accepted there, as many other people have pointed out. I'm still trying to come up with a decent excuse for that, but it's not working too well. For now, I'm going to leave it that it shall be explained later on in the story, as many other confusing and inaccurate things shall. I never thought of Gimli being the only representative for the Dwarves. That is an interesting point. Maybe I'll add another Dwarf later on. I'll have to do some major thinking on that. Dwarves were fickle, and would take that personally. Aragorn would indeed keep an eye on Auranor, but I see him as a vary level-headed character that understands that she can take care of herself and has a great respect for her fighting abilities. He may joke aroundand pick on her like any sibling would, saying that he will have to baby-sit her, but he knows otherwise. They are an equal match, as seen in their friendly combat in Ch. 1. She has just as much skill as he. As for choosing the movie version of the Counsil rather than the book, I know that it took me more than one reading session to finish that chapter because it was so long, boring, and drawn out. I didn't want to do that to the readers, but still wanted to hit the important points, so the movie was the best alternative.Don't worry, you aren't the only one who lives with the book while reading fan fiction. I often look up things to see how accurate they are because I'm a bit of a stickler for the accuracy, except in the case ofadding awoman to theFellowship of course. Al least I'm not the only one who caught on late. Wow! You are certainly a multilingual person! That is something to be proud of. I know English, of course, Latin, a little Spanish and Sindarian, and a few wordsin Italian and French. I'm taking Japanese nextyear, but mind you, I don't know much in any of the languages past Latin. As for Auranor being a great warrior, she isgoodwith sword fighting, but she knows squat about archery, as you will learn later. I'm planningon using that situation for some romantic fuel (oops! that was a peak at what is to come!) I'm gladyour review was long. It gave me some insight.Wow, my response was really long though.Hope you enjoy! Keep reading!

**Crecy-**Yeah, I tend to write long responses. I'm flattered that people are interested in my story, and want to keep them, interested. I enjoy hearing what people have to say and am more than happy to respond, so I get carried away sometimes. I figure that if they took time to review it, it is only right that I take time to respond. Nestellon wasn't meant to be a harsh character, but it wasn't acceptable for a woman, let alone an elf woman, to be so outgoing, especially in manly subjects such as battle. Many people have pointed that out to me, and I knew that before I started writing, but thought it would be interesting anyway. Don't worry, he isn't really a bad character, and may come to be much more acceptable later on. I'm glad you like Auranor. She is based a lot on myself, as many Mary-Sueish stories are about the author. Keep reading!

**PrincessofRain -** Hey! I'm glad you continued reading, as well as enjoying! Oh boy, criticizers in packs. Well, I guess I'll just have to dish out stuff better than them. I know now that there are people out there that enjoy what i am writing, so that gave me quite a confidence boost. As long as I know that my story isn't a waste of time, I think I can ignore the criticizers. If they get exceedingly bad, I'll just have to hop through the computer and serve up a nice fresh dish of butt kicking. Yeah, Einstein was definitely a walking brain. He gives me hope because we share the similar problem of failing math class. I find it baffling that he could fail, yet still succeed as he did. But that makes me feel likeI still have a chance to do what I want regardless of my math grades.Tolkien is definitely up there with Einstein. Thanks andkeep reading!


	5. Ch4: A Task Veiled in Shadow

**Chapter 4  
**_A Task Veiled in Shadow_

"Auranor, it is alright. You are safe now. No one will harm you here." An angelic voice spoke to her in a melodic timbre. She was overwhelmed by a bright white light as she awoke. Auranor shielded her eyes from the glare, but they soon adjusted. Everything around her was veiled in a light mist.

In front of her, she could see a tall figure, completely clad in white, walking towards her. She looked familiar, as if Auranor should know who it was, but she couldn't remember. As she drew nearer, Auranor saw that she had long, flowing, golden hair, much like her own. 'She must be an elf. No human could possibly have a face as fair as hers. She walks with the grace of the Valar,' Auranor thought.

She stopped but a few feet in front of Auranor and gazed down upon her with a tender, loving look on her face. Behind her, Auranor noticed, that an elf man was walking towards her. He also had long blonde hair, and was clad in all white. He was wearing a piece of elven armor across his chest and had a sheathed sword at his side.

"Auranor, all is well. Do not be afraid," the woman said.

"_Mas na-im_?" Auranor asked.

"You are in Eldamar," said the man. "Though, your stay here is short, and only temporary."

"But if I am in Eldamar that means that I either passed into the West, or I …I'm…dead!" Auranor said as a shadow of fear drew over her.

"You are here, but it is not your time," the woman replied comfortingly. "You passed much too early, and the Valar have seen this."

"What happened? Why am I here?"

"That will reveal itself in due time," the woman replied.

"It is not your time. You must return to Middle-Earth until you are ready," said the man. Auranor sat there, totally confused and unsure what to think.

"But know this:" said the woman. "Middle-Earth will undergo great change, and will come into a time of great peril. It is your duty to care for this situation. The Valar have appointed this task to you, though you will need to seek help if you are to succeed."

"But what is my task? How will I know when I have discovered it?" Auranor asked. "Does it concern Frodo and the Ring?"

"You will know when it happens. All will reveal itself in due time," said the man.

"How am I to succeed in a task that you claim is so great?"

"You cannot succeed alone. You must seek the help of those around you. You will know when you have found them. You will feel it in your heart," said the man.

"You must return to Middle-Earth now," said the woman. "Remember your task. Make us proud _iell nin_." Auranor's final vision was of the man standing with his arm around the woman, both waving to her with tears in their eyes.

**

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**Response to Reviews**

_Sorry for the short responses this time. I have lots of stuff to do, but needed to update. _

**A note to Chunkymonkey259** - I shortened the description of the dress in chapter 1. There is still a little bit of description, but not as long as it was.

**Crecy – **I'm glad you liked the chapter. I thought the same thing about calling the leader boss when I wrote it, but I wasn't sure what else to call him. Any suggestions? Keep reading!

**HyperSquishy –** Thanks! More Leggy/Auranor interaction is to come, but not too fast. Love is a slow process. Keep reading!

**PrincessofRain –** Thanks! I hope you are as successful as you wish to be. Maybe I'll read about you in the paper or see you on T.V. someday. I just hope you don't meet the same fate as Marie and Pierre. That would be very bad. Keep reading!


	6. Ch5: A New Chance at Life

**Chapter 5  
**_A New Chance at Life_

'Oh, my head.'

Pain, all she felt was intense pain. Auranor's head was throbbing, and she felt sick to the stomach. She tried to open her eyes, but they refuse to obey. Her body felt incredibly weak, as if she had been trampled by a herd of horses from the Riddermark. The only thing she could focus on was the great pain. She wished it would subside, but the more she wished, the more she hurt. 'If only the ground would stop moving and wasn't so wet, I may feel a little better,' she thought.

'Wait. The ground is moving and it's wet. Where am I? Am I on a horse? Oh, no! If I am on a horse, I can't be leading it if I can't even open my eyes. The beast is riding on without command of a rider. Where is it taking me? I will be lost somewhere in Middle-Earth without the slightest idea of where I am or where to go.' Panic was sinking in. 'Uggghh! Come on eyes, open!"

Auranor finally managed to open her eyes, and see that her assumption was correct. She was on a brown horse that was running at a speed that even Moragil couldn't meet. It was raining and she could hear thunder in the distance. Her eyes searched for the reins, but saw that there was already a hand clutching to the thick leather strap. Auranor also notice that a strong hand was around her waist, holding her close to a strong, warm body and preventing her from falling off the horse. She opened her mouth, wanting to protest the hand around her waist, but her head began to throb again, only much more intensely. She felt cold and become dizzy. All around her became a big blur, and she passed out.

"She is in incredibly bad shape," said a Nestellon. "You have arrived just in time. Had you delayed, and she may not have made it this far. She is lucky to be alive."

"She needs help now or she won't be alive for much longer. The light of Earendil was just barely in her when we found her, and is growing weaker with every delayed moment," said Legolas. "She needs medicine. The orcs were looting her belongings when we arrived. We found athelas wrapped in this brown cloth on the ground beside her. It may be of some help, but she may be beyond the healing powers it provides." Again, Auranor became dizzy and fainted.

'Mmmm… that smell…honeysuckle, lavender, lilies. So warm…mmmm…these blankets are so warm and cozy. Wait, blankets? Where am I?' Auranor opened her eyes and found herself encircled in a beautiful room with gray stone pillars, open to the outside atmosphere. She noticed that it resembled her own room in Rivendell. Yes, it was indeed her room, but how did she get there? She looked around, this time noticing a dark-haired elf sitting in the chair beside her bed. He sat with his head resting in his hand, appearing to be asleep, his glazed eyes open and unblinking, as Elves slept.

"Nestellon, what are you doing here? What happened?" she said to him.

He blinked his eyes and shook his head as he awoke, with a smile across his face at the sight of her awake. "Auranor, you are awake," he said as he bent over her with a warm embrace. "How do you feel?"

"My head is a little sore but I feel fine," she answered, gently rubbing the lump on the back of her head. "What happened?"

"Good," he said, ignoring her question. "Then I will not feel guilty for scolding you."

"Why do you scolding me?" she asked in disbelief.

"For your foolishness in insisting that you go out as a scout!" he yelled.

"But what happened? How is it that I got back here without knowing it?" she asked, angry, but hurt at his statement.

"You were attacked by orcs, and I am guessing you were not the victor," he recounted from what Auranor's rescuer's had observed.

"Yes, I remember," she said. She told him what she remembered of the event.

He shook his head at her, still appalled at her insistence to go out against Elrond's and his own judgment. "You are just lucky that Aragorn and Legolas were traveling through that area," he said with cross eyes. "Had they not found you, you would have died for certain."

"But I did die," she said, remembering the two elves in Eldamar. "At least, I think I did." She told Nestellon of how she woke up in Eldamar and what the two elves had told her. "I think they were my parents," she said sadly.

Nestellon looked at her with understanding. He put his hand on her shoulder kindly and said, "Perhaps you hit your head harder than shows, and it was all a dream. But if you feel that strongly about it, then follow whatever feelings your heart has."

"Does this mean that I still can go with the Fellowship?" she asked.

"As I told you before, I do not favor the idea, but I will not stand in your way, even after this incident." He answered.

Auranor looked at him gratefully. "_Hannon lle_," she said. Nestellon sighed and smiled back.

"You should rest now," he told her. "You have a long, treacherous journey ahead of you, and you need all of the strength and courage you can muster." Nestellon looked down at her with a relieved smile before he turned for the door. "Would you like me to send up some dinner for you?" he asked as he paused in the doorway.

"Yes," Auranor said. "I would be grateful to have some food."

"Very well, someone will be up soon," he said, then left the room.

Auranor lay there thinking about her vision. 'Was it a dream? No, it couldn't have been. It was too real. I died. A task; what will I have to do? They said I would know when the time came, but it worries me that I haven't an idea of what to expect. I just wish…' her thoughts were interrupted by a light tap at the door. "Yes, come in," she replied.

Into the room strode Aragorn with a tray in hand, closely followed by Legolas. Auranor looked at the two welcomingly, happy to see friendly faces.

"We heard that you were awake and wanted to see how you were doing," Aragorn said as he placed the tray on her lap.

"I am doing well," she said. "But my head is still a little sore." Again she rubbed the lump on the back of her head.

"After what you went through, it surprises me that you are doing as well as you are," Legolas said.

Auranor looked up at her two friends with a smile. "Please, sit down. I wish to know what exactly happened. My memory of the event is very vague."

The man and elf pulled two chairs next to Auranor's bedside, and sat down comfortably. "First, I think it would help us understand the entire situation a little better if we knew what it is you were doing alone in the wilderness when danger is so close," Aragorn said with a sly, almost mischievous grin.

Auranor guiltily looked down at her food, knowing she was, indeed, foolish to do as she had done. "Well," she began, "I felt like a waste of flesh just sitting around Rivendell all day while the rest of you were out scouting. Aragorn, you know my biggest intention on our quest after protecting Frodo. I suppose I became impatient and felt that I needed to begin my duties sooner than time was allowing." Aragorn looked at her understandingly, yet his furrowed brow told Auranor that he thought her decision was unwise. Legolas looked on at her with confused eyes, clueless as to her "biggest intentions" and their reasons. Auranor ignored this, as she did not wish to relive her past again, not after her vision.

"I see," Aragorn said, his gaze not leaving Auranor, pressuring her silently to continue on with her recounts. She told the two what had happened; of the search for athelas, the orc encounter, and, at last, her final battle.

"The last thing I remember is extreme pain where the lump on my head is, and then everything disappeared as I was consumed by darkness." As she finished, she looked down at her food, which was cold by now, waiting for a reaction. Silence. Uncertainly, she looked up at Aragorn and Legolas.

To her surprise, she did not find angry looks on the faces of her friends. Auranor was greeted by smiles, nay, laughter. She snickered and shook her head in disbelief and confusion. "I don't understand. What is so funny? Why are you laughing?"

"I'm sorry Auranor," Aragorn said, attempting to abate his laughter. "But the way you handled those orcs…haha!" Auranor stared at him, even more confused than before.

"Yes, what a brilliant idea," Legolas said with a wide smile. "Splitting them up and slaying them one by one! I had no idea that you were so well versed in battle strategy." He looked at her with a playful sincerity. Auranor now understood.

"Nay did I," Aragorn said. "I knew you fought well, but your skill amazes even me. You have learned much since I have been gone." She saw the amusement in his eyes grow as he sighed and shook his head. A moment of silence passed, then Aragorn spoke again. "Indeed, you do fight well," he paused, "for a woman." His eyes flickered with mischief, knowing full well what he had done.

His words lit a flame of competitive anger within Auranor. "Now wait just a moment," she said, pushing the tray from her lap, preparing to stand up and defend herself. Legolas looked on in amusement.

Aragorn stood up and put his hands on Auranor's shoulders, pushing her back down onto the bed. "Now, now, my lady, sit down. There is no need to strain yourself. I was only poking fun at you." Auranor rested back as she previously had been, thankful that she didn't have to waste the little strength she had. "There now, we all know you could hold your own against the best of warriors. You fight better than many of the battle-worn men that I have fought." He sat back down where he had been and sighed lazily.

"I should like to see this amazing skill at its best in a friendly competition sometime," Legolas suggested competitively to Auranor.

"I accept your challenge good Prince," Auranor said confidently, as if she were ready to get up and fight at that very moment. "Um…" she hesitated, "as soon as I have regained my strength and am feeling myself again." All three laughed joyously as Auranor's face turned a light, rosy pink.

"Well, now that I have told you my half of the story, I believe you should enlighten me as to your part in this tale," Auranor said as she picked up a piece of toasted Elvish sweet bread from her tray and began to eat.

"Let me see," Aragorn began. "We had been traveling through the area west of Rivendell to see if the Wraiths still lurked near. I last saw them at Amon Sul when Frodo was stabbed. There was no sign of them from north of Weathertop to as far south as the South Downs. They must have returned to the Black Lands to regroup, but we have not seen the last of them."

He paused for a moment, and Legolas picked up the tale. "We were traveling back to Rivendell from the South Downs and needed to pass through the area where we found you in order to return to the road. While we were traveling through the woods, I could sense danger. I told Aragorn to keep alert, but no sooner had the words escaped my mouth, and I saw the orcs off in the distance. They were looking for something. Aragorn and I slowed down and remained as quiet as our horses would allow. Then, I saw you jump out of the tree onto one's shoulders and kill it. But then you become stuck and unable to defend yourself. That was when the orc's sword hilt smashed down onto your head. At that point, Aragorn and I rode on as fast as we could. By the time we had reached you, the remaining orcs had found pleasure in beating you repeatedly and rummaging through your belongings."

"He had your sword in his hand when Legolas's arrow soared through his eye," Aragorn continued. "We finished off the other three orcs and returned to you. We thought you were dead. Those cursed orcs had beaten you badly. Your arms, face, and clothes were blood-stained and bruised, and you skin was cold." His eyes wandered to the ground sadly, as he relived the moment.

Legolas looked at Auranor with concern showing in his blue eyes. "What little light was left in you was fading fast. Had we delayed at all, and you would not have made it. After Aragorn helped me secure you to my horse, he rode on ahead to Rivendell to inform Lord Elrond of the incident. I rode with you and arrived shortly after Aragorn. I did not think you would make it until you regained consciousness for a moment. Even after you fainted again, I knew you would make it at least to Rivendell. It takes a very strong spirit to resist death when it is upon you."

"When Legolas returned with you, Elrond and Nestellon had already prepared a bed and medicine, and worked well into the night to revive you," Aragorn continued. "By morning, you were stable, but not yet awake. Nestellon stayed by your side for the following three days until just now when you awoke."

Auranor sat in silence, trying to take in all that had just been said. Without warning, in one quick, yet shaky movement, Auranor shoved her tray aside and pushed herself to her feet. Both Aragorn and Legolas stood up quickly to assist her, but before a word could escape their mouths, Auranor had one arm wrapped around each of their necks in a warm embrace. The two were equally surprised at her reaction, but returned the hug, supporting their still weak friend.

"_Hannon lle_," was all that Auranor could manage to whisper to her saviors. "_Hannon lle an edraith nin cuil_."

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Response to Reviews**

**Forensic Photographer711** – Thanks! I'm glad you like the story! I hope to update more often since schools out now. Keep reading!

**PrincessofRain** – not necessarily science stuff, just whatever you choose to do in life. Can't wait to read your first story! Definitely let me know when you are done.

**Crecy –** Master is better that boss, but the commanding orc wasn't really the slave driver of the others. I watched the movie and they only referred to their equals as scum and Morgual rats. It never really said anything about the higher ranking orcs. In the book, they don't really refer to each other as much more than that or their names. Maybe the name will have to do. What do you think?

**Seyyada** – Thanks! I'm glad you like it. Sure, I'll review your story. I'll warn you now…I'm in AP English, and tend to nit pick on things. Don't be discouraged or too overwhelmed if I pick on the little spelling and grammatical errors. I just try to help. But I will be honest with it. I know how it is when writings sound like the other stuff you read. I had that problem with a few things, and I just scrapped them. It's hard for stories not to sound like stuff that's already out there, especially with fantasy, because there are many, many authors out there that have been inspired by the same works. Look how many of us have been inspired by Tolkien and Rowling. The result, even of original fiction, almost always has some sort of similar item, weather it be a similar plot line, similar characters or races, similar little details, etc. But I'm really flattered that you think my story is good enough to ask me to review yours. I feel special! Thanks again, and keep reading!


	7. Ch6: And So a Quest Begins

**Hey all! Sorry for the long absence. It was a combo of getting very lost in the lazy days of summer and preparing for the local Renaissance Festival, of which I am a street actor. Sorry also for the brevity of this chapter. I promise the next two will make up for it. Both chapters 7 and 8 are in the revision process and will be up soon. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 6

_And So a Quest Begins_

The sun had not yet breached the horizon, and the stars still shone dimly in the sky, but Auranor had been awake for some time. Two weeks after Auranor has recovered from her incident with the orcs, the last of the scouts had returned with news that the Enemy was getting stronger and it would be wise for the Fellowship to set out immediately. That very night was to be the last night in Rivendell. The Fellowship was to set out early the next morning by cover of the remaining darkness.

Auranor stood beside her bed rummaging through her pack, checking that nothing had been forgotten. The small bag didn't have much in it, but what was there, Auranor knew she could not go without. She grasped each item in turn a final time before storing it away in the pack. First Auranor picked up a leather cloth that she had prepared earlier. Inside were some basic, yet vital healing herbs and plants that she thought may come in handy. Then, she grabbed a bundle of lembas, the Elven journey bread. With it, she stowed two leathern flasks, one containing water, the other containing _miruvor_, the cordial of Imaldris. Last, she picked up a delicate mithril chain, crafted from tiny circlets of the fine metal. Upon the chain hung a simple mithril charm depicting the sun. It had been a gift from her parents. She held it in her hand, fiddling with the chain, then placed it over her head and around her neck. She tucked the pendent beneath her shirt where it lay close to her heart. She hooked the pack to her belt, then fastened the belt around her waist.

A quiet knock came upon the door. Auranor bid the visitor to enter, and was met by an alert, well rested looking Aragorn. "Auranor, it is time. Lord Elrond waits in the Great Hall." Auranor nodded silently. She grabbed her sword off the bed, and her cloak from the chair, and followed Aragorn to the Great Hall.

Assembled in the Great Hall, nine of the ten of the Fellowship stood in silence, waiting for Lord Elrond to appear. All looked well rested and ready to begin the long journey. All, that is, except the two mischievous Hobbits, Merry and Pippin. Both sat beside Frodo and Sam, yawning. Auranor watched curiously as Merry's head began to droop. Just as his chin rested on his chest, his eyes shot back open, and his head jerked up to its normal position. Pippin, however, was not as reluctant to resume his slumber. His head rested on Merry's shoulder with his mouth wide open. Auranor's keen elf eyes could see a small stream of drool at the corner of his lips. A quiet giggle escaped her, only audible to herself and Legolas, who glanced at her in wonder. His inquiring stare did not escape Auranor, and their eyes locked. For a split second, she felt short of breath, as if she had been pulled deep into a mysterious pool with in his glowing blue orbs. Regaining her senses, an amused smile formed across her face as she turned her gaze to the tired Hobbits, then back to Legolas. He followed her gaze to the sleeping Pippin and half-awake Merry, equally as amused as Auranor. He looked back at her with a smile, shaking his head at the Hobbits. Their eyes met again briefly before their attention was drawn to Lord Elrond, who had just taken his place before the assembly.

The Lord of Rivendell stood on a platform overlooking the gathered company. With him stood Nestellon, Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen, and Gandalf, who was descending to accompany the rest of the Fellowship. All watched him with anticipation, as he looked at them with wise, weary eyes.

"This is my last word," Elrond began in a low voice. "The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid: neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save the members of the Company and the Council, and only then in greatest need. The others go with him as free companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry, or come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows. The further you go, the less easy it will be to withdraw; yet no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road." Elrond paused, looking each of the ten in the eye, then continued with the last of his remarks. "Look not too far ahead! But go now with good hearts! Farewell, and may the blessing of the Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!" With that, Elrond left the room, his sons following him.

"And so we shall go into danger and peril with hope of reviving what good is left in this world," Gandalf said as he turned to leave the room. The Company followed the old wizard; all except Aragorn, who had ascended the stairs of the platform to bid a final farewell to Arwen. This would, indeed, be the last time the two lovers would be together, for Arwen was to voyage to the undying lands, never to return to Middle Earth.

As Auranor was about to pass through the door of the Great Hall, Nestellon caught her arm, pulling her back. "It is not too late to stay. As you know, not I or any other will try to stop you, for you go of your own account, but I fear greatly for your safety."

"Nestellon, I need to do this. I know not what, but something in my heart keeps telling me that this is the right decision, and that good shall prevail and grow stronger out of the ashes of evil. Fear not, all shall be well. We shall meet again soon."

Nestellon gazed at Auranor with sad, understanding eyes. He lovingly wrapped his arms around her, and with a sigh, whispered, "Please return to us. Do not let evil overcome you. Take care and return with haste."

"_Le annon veleth nin Nestellon_," she whispered, and so he returned the affection. Auranor made her way to the door, looking back at Nestellon a final time before leaving the room. The rest of the Fellowship had already reached the Gates of Rivendell, but Auranor seated herself on a bench outside, waiting for Aragorn. Her sharp elf ears picked up the final moments of the conversation within the Great Hall, the sweet Elvish flowing through the air like a song.

"If your heart can bear it, do not forget me once you have left Middle Earth."

"_Meleth nin_, you are the one who I have given my heart to. I will never forget you, no matter how many lonely ages pass."

"You will always live on in my heart. Every orc I slay, I slay for you, in hope that one day we shall be together again in a peaceful world." There was a brief silence, then the sound of footsteps nearing the door. Auranor stood up as Aragorn approached, clutching Arwen's Evenstar necklace to his heart. Auranor could see the tears in his eyes as he stared at the ground.

"Fear not my brother," Auranor said sincerely, placing a hand on his shoulder. "For my heart tells me that you and your love shall meet again soon." Aragorn looked at her with a sad smile of gratitude, and the two continued on silently to the Gates of Rivendell.

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**Response to Reviews (sorry for such short responses today)**

**Crecy – **Thanks, I will fix it next time I update. A little preview, Lothlorien should get a bit more interesting. 

**Seyyada** – I'm so sorry I haven't reviewed anything lately. As I said, I got lost in the lazy days of summer and have had a lot to do concerning the local Renaissance Festival. I will get back to that though ASAP. Don't worry, no hurties! I am fine, and it is not a problem to review. Keep reading and writing!

**Iloveorlando08 **– Thanks so much! Reviews are always welcomed! Thanks for reading! Chapter 7 to come soon…

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**Dreamer888** – Well you better get reading then! I think the tea towel and strawberries shall remain absent from this version, but maybe I shall include them in another, lol. Trampoline party sounds good. Can we invite Orlando? Please! 

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**Alatariel Silimaure** – I updated! Sorry to leave everyone hanging for so long. Chapter 7 in revision process and will be posted soon. Keep reading!


	8. Ch7: Forging Unexpected Paths

**Sorry if there are grammatical errors. I tried to hurry up so that you guys had something new to read. Told you this one would be long. I took more directly from the book and movie than I wanted to, but for the purpose of hurrying up, I did. Tell me what you think. Hope you enjoy! **

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**Chapter 7  
**_Forging Unexpected Paths_

For many days the Fellowship journeyed, sleeping by day and traveling by night. From Rivendell, Gandalf led the company by road to the mighty Bruinen, where they left the perils of the open trail behind, and traveled south through unmarked terrain. The wise wizard knew that the Enemy would be ever vigilant, awaiting any sign of the whereabouts of the Ring Bearer and the precious treasure he carried. Gandalf led the companions through deep, dark forests where their position was sure to remain unknown.

The journey was slow, hard, and dreary, without the light and warmth of the sun to lift spirits. Firers were rarely lit for fear of giving away their location, for the Enemy had many spies from all regions of Middle Earth. But through the little talk that occurred, the travelers began to grow closer, creating new friendships and rekindling the old. Auranor remained close with Gandalf and Aragorn, but soon bonded with the rest of the group, even growing to tolerate the Dwarf. Boromir, though usually friendly to all, seemed to pay much attention to Frodo, though distantly, as if he were never satisfied with something concerning the Hobbit. His eyes always darted to the Ring on the chain around Frodo's neck. Auranor noticed this, as well as Aragorn, and both always kept a protective eye on the Ring Bearer. Frodo seemed ever distant and lost within his own thoughts. He rarely smiled, and kept to himself, speaking only when he must. He was not as cheerful and happy as Auranor had remembered him in Rivendell. Something about him had changed. The pain of the heavy burden that the small Hobbit carried began to show more every day. Unlike Frodo, however, the other three Hobbits could always find something to be cheerful about. To Auranor's befuddlement, it seemed that the three couldn't go more than an hour without stumbling upon the topic of food. Strange creatures they were, always worried about second breakfast, elevensies, afternoon tea, and dinner. She couldn't understand how they found food so fascinating. But it never failed; Merry, Pippin, and Sam always managed to keep the Company in good spirits with their strange, often humorous ways.

But of all of the Fellowship, Auranor found herself growing particularly close to Legolas. Beings that he was the only other elf in the Fellowship, she felt a common bond with the Prince of Mirkwood. The two usually walked at the rear of the group, talking occasionally in voices only audible to themselves. Auranor was ever curious about the happenings of Mirkwood, and Legolas was more than happy to satisfy her curiosity. More than once, the two Elves stayed awake together while on watch, reminiscing on the past. They soon discovered that they had been childhood playmates on more than one occasion, and spoke of visiting the trampling ground of their younger days.

"I wish I could see the forests of Mirkwood again. I can barely remember what they look like," Auranor said longingly.

"Mayhap, one day, if we are not overcome by the perils of this journey, you can make it a point to return to Mirkwood," Legolas suggested.

"Mayhap I shall," Auranor said happily, but the smile soon vanished.

"Something disturbs you," Legolas said softly. "Do you not wish to return?"

"I do wish to return, but there are many haunting memories attached to those deep green forests."

Legolas sat silently for a moment, searching for the right words to say, for he knew not what haunting memories lurked in those deep green forests. He gazed into her eyes, his own blue orbs bringing peace and comfort to her soul. "When the time is right, your memories will no longer trouble you, and you shall return."

Auranor smiled at him with a sigh, and silence fell over them.

"You should rest now," he said to her after a few moments passed, sensing the turmoil in her heart. "There are still many leagues to travel before rest may welcome you again."

Auranor nodded gratefully, and retired to the ground beside the Hobbits. Thoughts of Mirkwood danced through her head as she drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

After two long weeks of continuous travel, the cool, dreary weather began to break. The sun shone upon the Fellowship, warming their skin and spirits.

"Ah, we have reached the land of Hollin. Elves once dwelt here in happier days when the land was know as Eregion. We have traveled far. The weather should grow more pleasant and bearable, but perhaps more dangerous," Gandalf said to the company as Frodo stood beside him, looking out over the terrain awaiting them.

"But I cannot deny how welcoming a real sunrise it," Frodo said, letting the sun shine brightly upon his face.

"But the mountains are ahead of us," said Pippin. "We must have turned eastwards during the night."

"Nay," Gandalf said. "You can seen further in the clear light. The range bends south-west beyond those peaks. Elrond has many maps, but I suppose you never took time to look at any of them?"

"I looked at them once or twice, but I don't remember anything," said Pippin. "Perhaps Frodo does though."

"I need no map," said Gimli, who had come up with Legolas and Auranor. "Beyond lays the lands of old, where our fathers once worked. Those mountains have been featured in many of our carved works, and songs and tales: Baraz, Zirak, Shathur. Beneath them lies Kazad-dum, Moria in the Elvish tongue. Beyond that stands the tall, cruel Barazinbar, the Redhorn, Caradhras. Still beyond him are the Silvertine and Cloudyhead, Celebdil the White and Fanuidhol the Gray: to us they are Zirakzigil and Bundushathur. There the Misty Mountains divide, and between them lays the valley which we cannot forget: Azanulbizar, the Dimrill Dell, Nanduhirion to the Elves. By knowing this, Gandalf, it seems to me that we are taking the long way around. We could pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin Balin would give us a royal welcome!"

"No Gimli, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice. Dimrill Dale is where we are headed," said Gandalf, looking out beyond to where the Dell should be. "If we climb the pass called the Redhorn Gate, under the far side of Caradhras, we shall descend near the Dimrill Stair, deep into the valley of the Dwarves, where Mirrormere lies, and the River Silverlode rises in its icy springs."

"I have heard of these places in tales told around the tables of Elrond," said Auranor. "Never did I think I would travel to them."

"It is not an easy journey," Aragorn said to her. "Just as how far we have come thenceforth has been difficult and tiresome, so this shall also be."

"Aye," said Gimli. "Dark is the water of Kheled-zaram, and cold are the springs of Kibil-nala. My heart trembles at the thought that I may see them soon."

"May you have joy in the sight, my good Dwarf!" said Gandalf. "But whatever you may do, we at least cannot stay in that valley. We must go down the Silverlode into the secret woods, and so to the Great River, and then –" he paused.

"Yes, and where then?" asked Merry?"

"To the end of the journey – in the end," the old wizard replied, remembering the words of Elrond. "We cannot look too far ahead. Let us be glad that we have come this fare safely. I think we shall rest here, not only for today, but tonight as well. There is a wholesome air about Hollin. Much evil must befall a country before it wholly forgets the Elves, if once they dwelt there."

"That is true," said Legolas. "But the Elves of this land were of a race strange to us of the silvan folk, and the trees and the grass do not now remember them. Only I hear the stones lament them: _deep they delved us, fair they wrought us, high they builded us; but they are gone._ They are gone. They sought the Havens long ago."

"I too can hear them, now that I listen," said Auranor softly, straining to hear more. "_In the Second Age, they came and went; now we are all that remains_."

That morning, the Fellowship rested. They lit a fire, and Sam cooked a wonderful breakfast, better and merrier that they had had since they set out. As Frodo and Sam sat beside one another, enjoying the much appreciated meal, they watched there kin with Boromir. He was teaching Merry and Pippin some basics in sword fighting technique. Aragorn sat nearby, instructing the Hobbits as Boromir's sword sent easy blows for them to block.

"Move your feet," the Ranger said to them as he leisurely smoked his pipe.

Just then Boromir's aim faltered and the hilt of his sword smashed into Pippin's fingers, causing the hobbit to drop his sword in pain.

"Sorry!" Boromir said sincerely, approaching Pippin to see if he was well.

Pippin ran toward Boromir and kicked him in the shin. Merry then smashed the blunt end of his sword into Boromir's leg, and the two Hobbits bowled Boromir onto the ground, all the while punching and hitting him, playfully.

"For The Shire!" Pippin yelled as the three wrestled around on the ground. All who were watching laughed heartily at the sight.

Suddenly, Aragorn stood up with a confused look in his eyes. He moved away from the battling group, and stood on a rock, listening carefully.

"What is the matter Strider?" Merry called to him, ceasing his fight. "What are you looking for? Do you miss the East Wind?" he joked.

"No indeed," the Ranger answered. "But I miss something. I have traveled through this country many times. Though people dwell here no longer, but there are still many creatures that make there home here, namely birds. Yet, all I hear is silence. There is no sound for miles but us, and your voices seem to make the ground echo. I do not understand it."

"I noticed that too," said Auranor. "But I have never traveled this land, and wasn't sure if the creatures that once dwelt here still made this their home."

"I also found it peculiar that no birds could be heard. Perhaps we are not as alone as the absence of such sounds suggest," said Legolas, now listening harder for any sound other than themselves.

Gandalf looked up with sudden interest. "That could be. Do you suppose it is more than surprise at seeing four Hobbits, two Men, two Elves, a Dwarf, and an old Wizard all at once in a place where nothing, save themselves, has dwelt in centuries?

"I hope that is it," said Aragorn. "But I have a sense of watchfulness, and of fear, that I have never had here before."

"Then we must be more careful," said Gandalf. "If you bring a Ranger with you, it is well to pay attention to him, especially if that Ranger is Aragorn. We must stop talking aloud, rest quietly, and set the watch.

Just then, Legolas and Auranors' heads snapped simultaneously to the sky ahead. A black cloud could be seen, moving rapidly towards the hill they all stood upon. Everyone drew their attention to the massive black haze.

"What is that?" asked Sam.

"Nothing. It is just a wisp of clouds," said Gimli.

"It's moving fast," Boromir breathed, "against the wind." All stood and stared at the moving blur, trying to make out what it was.

Legolas strained his eyes to see. "Crebain from Dunland!" he yelled suddenly.

"Hide!" shouted Aragorn. All grabbed their belongings and extinguished the fire while scattering, making way to a bush or boulder for coverage. Auranor dove beneath a holly bush among the boulders, and Legolas followed closely behind.

The silence was broken with the shrill squawks and shrieks of the vile mass of black birds as they flew over the hillside. All watched cautiously from their hiding place as the creatures circled the sky above the boulder covered hill. The birds seemed to be searching for something. They circled twice before flying away over to the next hill, circling in the same searching manner.

The companions cautiously emerged from their concealment, still watching the black mass as it flew away.

"Spies of Saruman," Gandalf said with disgust as he rose from behind a rock. "The passage south is being watched." He looked around at the group, pausing on the Hobbits, who had fear and concern written in their faces. All followed Gandalf's gaze as his eyes rose to the unforgiving, towering, mountain peak that lay higher up the mountain from where they stood. "We must take the pass of Caradhras."

Four days after the crebain had flown over their camp, the Fellowship found themselves trekking through the bitterly cold, snowy pass of Caradhras. Auranor could see the weariness growing in the Hobbits' eyes' as they tried to keep up with the rest of the group.

Suddenly, the exhausted Ring-bearer stumbled over the snow, and went tumbling back down the hill.

"Frodo!" Aragorn yelled, who was now at the rear of the line, as he caught Frodo, hindering his passage.

Frodo rose with Aragorn's aid. He quickly brushed the snow off of his clothes, and groped around his neck for the Ring. It was not there. He looked back up the path he had made when falling, his eyes soon resting on what he sought. There in the snow, lay the One Ring. Frodo stood dumbfounded as hand reached for it. The Hobbit's eyes rose to find Boromir clutching the chain that the Ring was around.

Boromir stared longingly, greedily, at the prize in his hand as he raised it to eye level. All turned to face thee three as silence fell over the pass.

"Boromir," Aragorn said, trying to draw his companion's attention from the Ring.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt," he breathed slowly, "over so small a thing." Boromir became completely engrossed and entranced by that which he held in between his fingers. "Such a little thing," he whispered as his hand rose to touch the Ring.

"Boromir!" Aragorn said again, this time snapping Boromir out of the trance. He looked absently at Aragorn. "Give the Ring to Frodo."

Boromir slowly approached Frodo, the Ring still in hand. "As you wish," he said as he held the chain out in front of Frodo. "I care not." Frodo quickly snatched the Ring from Boromir, and clutched it tightly in his hand. Boromir gazed from Frodo, to Aragorn, and back to Frodo, then ruffled the Hobbits hair as he threw his shield over his back and stalked away with a possessed chuckle. As Boromir turned his back and walked away, Aragorn released the grip on his sword.

Auranor looked concernedly at Aragorn, whose eyes never left Boromir until he had rejoined the group. She knew that this was only the beginning.

By midnight, the Fellowship had traveled into vast danger. It had begun snowing at nightfall, and the dreaded mountain pass had not ceased its anger upon the trespassers since. The snow was so deep that Aragorn and Boromir had to carry the Hobbits through the path Gandalf struggled to create. Only Legolas and Auranor walked with ease at the rear of the group, for Elves could walk weightlessly on the surface of the snow without even leaving footprints.

As the group struggled on, Legolas hurried out ahead of them to the edge of the cliff they were on. Auranor followed closely behind him, sensing evil. The two Elves stood listening, straining to hear more.

The Elves' keen ears caught a deep muttering of dark, evil words. "_Cuiva nwaka Carnirasse; nai yarvaxea rasselya!_"

"There is a fell voice on the air," Auranor said, looking out into the nothingness. The group behind them stopped.

"It's Saruman!" cried Gandalf, trying to be heard over the blustering wind of the blizzard upon them.

Without warning, a loud rumble was heard from above as a flood of boulders came crashing down from the upper regions of the peak, just barely missing the cliff the Fellowship stood on. Everyone shrank back against the wall of the mountain.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain," cried Aragorn. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"

"No!" cried Gandalf. He drug himself out of the deep path, and stood on top of the snow beside the two Elves. Looking out over the edge of the cliff, he began to chant, "_Losto Caradhras, sedho, hodo, nuitho i'ruith!_"

They all stood, listening, as the evil response grew louder. "_Cuiva nwalca Carnirasse; Nai yarvaxea rasselya; taltuva notto-carinnar!_"

Suddenly, a bold of lightning struck the peak of Caradhras, sending another avalanche if rocks and snow down over the side of the mountain. In one swift movement, Auranor pushed Legolas back and pulled Gandalf against the rock wall of the mountainside. Just as they hit the wall, the avalanche pounded down, with the entire unforgiving ness of Caradhras, on top of them. The falling snow slowly dissipated. Nothing moved.

Then, the sickening quiet was shattered by the sound of rustling snow, as Legolas's head popped out of the white blanket. Instantly, hands, arms, and heads of the other members of the Fellowship began to emerge from beneath the snow. Legolas thrust himself out of the hole, and grabbed an arm that was projecting through the white fluff beside him. He pulled the body up out of the icy barricade, and caught it in his arms. Auranor looked up at him as he caught her, grateful to be alive and out of her snowy trap. Legolas brushed the wet hair from Auranor's face, and steadied her on her feat. They gazed into each other's eyes for a split second before hurrying off to aid the others.

As soon as all had emerged enough to speak, Boromir yelled out to Gandalf, " We must get off the mountain! Make for the Gap of Rohan, and take the west road to my city!"

Aragorn yelled out as he helped Frodo out of the snow, "The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!"

"We cannot pass over a mountain. Let us go under it," cried Gimli, as the blizzard began to ease. "Let us go through the Mines of Moria." Silence befell the group, awaiting an answer from Gandalf.

Finally, he answered. "Let the Ring-bearer decide." All eyes turned to Frodo. Auranor's heart filled with pity for the poor Halfling, for he already carried a heavy burden, and now this. "Frodo?"

Frodo looked at those around him, as if searching for an answer in their eyes. Finally he answered realizing their only option for survival, "We will go through the mines.

As the Fellowship descended the dreaded Caradhras, Auranor noticed a great sleepiness settling over the group. Suddenly, Frodo fell to the snow. Boromir ran to his side and scooped the little Hobbit out of the snow, shaking him awake.

"This will be the death of the Halflings, Gandalf," he said, still holding Frodo. "We must do something."

Then, Auranor remembered her pack that she had prepared before leaving Rivendell. "I have something that will help," she said suddenly. She stopped and fumbled through the pack. When her hand emerged, it grasped one of the leathern flasks. "Miruvor," she said with a twinkle in her eyes., "the Cordial of Imaldris."

A smile grew across the faces of Gandalf, Aragorn, and Legolas, who know what Auranor spoke of. Auranor rushed to Frodo's side, and, lifting his head, poured a small amount of the liquid down his throat. Instantly, the Hobbit perked up, and filled with energy. Auranor helped him to his feet and moved quickly to the other Hobbits. In turn, the results for each were equal to that of Frodo, and soon, the Hobbits were merry again, and ready to travel.

Auranor then passed the flask to each of the other members of the Fellowship, and they too, instantly rejuvenated. When it came back to her, she took a small sip, then replaced the flask in her pack.

"The things an elf-maiden can do to surprise you," Gandalf said to her, shaking his head.

"As I said before Mithrandir, though I am but a woman, I will do whatever I can to help along this journey," Auranor said, smiling at the wizard. "I guess growing up with Nestellon as a caretaker came in handy."

"Indeed it did," said Gandalf, as the group continued down the mountain.

It was nightfall on the third day descending the pass before the Fellowship reached a safe place to rest. They made their way through a wooded area until they found a clearing big enough to build a small fire, but small enough to still be shielded by trees. After the cruel episode on the mountain peak, the company cared no longer about enemy eyes, and built a fire, knowing it would warm their bodies and souls to see the light.

All huddled in a circle around the fire, passing around what was left of the miruvor, and eating the first meal besides lembas since the snow began to fall. They chattered quietly among themselves, glad to be away from the dreaded Caradhras.

Suddenly, the wind picked up, howling angrily at them.

Legolas jumped to his feet, "That is no ordinary wind. The howls of the wolves travel on it. The Wargs have come west of the Mountains!"

"Need we wait until morning then?" Gandalf asked. "The hunt is up! Even if we live to see the dawn, who now will wish to journey south by night with the wild wolves on his tail?"

"How far is Moria?" asked Boromir.

"The door lies south-west of Caradhras, maybe twenty miles as the wolf runs," answered Gandalf grimly.

"Then let us start as soon as it is light tomorrow, if we can," said Boromir. "The wolf that one hears is worse than the orc that one fears."

"True!" said Aragorn, loosening his sword in its sheath. "But where the warg howls, there also the orc prowls."

Pippin looked at Sam solemnly, and muttered, "Maybe I should have went back to The Shire as Elrond advised. I am no good after all. These howls freeze my blood. I don't ever remember feeling so wretched, and frightened."

"My heart's right down to my toes, Mr. Pippin," said Sam. "But we aren't etten yet, and there are some stout folk here with us. Whatever may be in store for old Gandalf, I'll wager it isn't a wolf's belly."

For their defense, the company distinguished the fire and climbed atop of the small hill they had been sheltering under. Many old, twisted, mangled trees grew there, and a broken circle of boulders surrounded their chosen resting place. They lit a small fire, for they knew they had already been discovered. The fire would also give some light to see if they were indeed attacked.

They again sat around the fire. Gandalf kept watch while the others slept uneasily. Howls surrounded them, and the two guardian saw eyes glowing in the darkness in all directions. Soon, the eyes grew closer, and shadowy figures began advancing in on the company. At the gap in the boulders, a great, dark figure halted, gazing at them. A piercing cry escaped his mouth, as if a leader summoning the troops to the assault.

Gandalf rose and strode toward the Warg, holding his staff out in front of himself. "Hound of Sauron! Gandalf is here. Fly, if you value your foul skin! I will shrivel you from tail to snout, if you come within this ring."

The Warg suddenly leapt toward Gandalf. Before Gandalf could defend himself, there was a sharp twang , and an arrow flew past the old wizard and through the throat of the wretched creature. The warg fell to the ground with a thud, and the last flame of life in its eyes extinguished.

Gandalf looked over his shoulder and found Legolas standing alertly with his bow drawn, and another arrow ready to fly. Boromir, Auranor, and Gimli stood in a circle around the Hobbits, ready to fight. Aragorn had risen and now stood beside Gandalf. The Wizard, Ranger, and Elf moved to the edge of the circle and searched as far as their eyes could see, but the hill was deserted, and the hunting packs had fled. The darkness grew ever more silent all around them. All resumed their sleep and watches.

As the moon waned in the western sky, Frodo started from sleep, catching the attention of Boromir and Aragorn, who were now on watch. Without warning, a storm of howls broke out fierce and wild all about the camp. A great host of Wargs had gathered silently and was now attacking them from every side at once. All were roused by the cacophony of howls, and sprang to their feet, ready to fight.

"Fling fuel on the fire!" cried Gandalf to the Hobbits. "Draw your blades and stand back to back!"

In the dancing light, Auranor could see shadowy figures leaping over their protective circle. She drew he sword, and began slashing at any wolf figure that dared to come near her. All around her, wolves were howling. Between sword hacks, she could see the others fighting the foul beasts. She watched Aragorn thrust his sword through the throat of a large Warg. Boromir had sliced one across the gut, and instantly turned and sliced another's throat. Gimli's axe was drawn, and he hacked happily at the beasts, raveling in the fun of killing off the evil. To her left, Auranor could hear Legolas's bow singing as he released his deadly arrows upon the Wargs. Even the Hobbits, though shaking in their boots, fought off every Warg that came near them.

Just then, Auranor saw Gandalf. He seemed to suddenly grow, tall and menacing. He stooped over and picked up a burning branch. He then strode toward the wargs. They shrank back before him. He threw the branch high into the air, and if flared with a sudden lighting like radiance, as his words thundered in the air.

"_Naur an edraith ammen! Naur dan i ngaurhoth_!" he cried. Suddenly, there was a roar and crackle, and the tree above him burst into flames. One by one, the top of each tree on the hill burst into flames, and soon, the entire hill was alight. Legolas released one last arrow through the burning heart of the Warg leader, and the rest of the hunting pack fled into the night.

The trees slowly burned until only the ashy stumps remained. Over the hill, the blue sky was beginning to turn orange with the coming of the sun. In the remainder of the firelight, Auranor could see the Warg blood dripping off her hands and the hands and faces of the others. She stood in her place, breathing heavily and looking around at the rest of her companions, who were doing the same.

"What did I tell you, Mr. Pippin?" said Sam, sheathing his sword. "Wolves won't get him. That was an eye-opener, and no mistake! Nearly singed the hair off my head!"

When the full light of morning came, no signs of the wolves remained. The dead bodies were burned, and the living had fled. All that remained were the arrows Legolas had shot, each in tact, save one.

"It is as I feared," said Gandalf. "These were no ordinary wolves hunting for food in the wilderness. Let us eat quickly and go! We must reach the doors before sunset, or I fear we shall not reach them at all." And so they did. After they ate, they hastily made their way on the path to Moria.

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****Response to Reviews**

**Iwish Chan** – Yup, indeed. But I shall write as if Aragorn doesn't know that (of course he doesn't) so some interesting things may happen later, but I'm not sure yet.

**BellaRu** – I'm glad you like it. Keep reading!


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